


Joker's Wild

by magumarashi



Series: Love & Justice Series (Actual Phantom Thief AU) [4]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Additional cameos by the following characters:, Kitagawa Yusuke - Freeform, M/M, Mishima Yuuki - Freeform, Okumura Haru - Freeform, Sakamoto Ryuji - Freeform, Sakura Sojiro - Freeform, Takamaki Ann - Freeform, futaba sakura - Freeform, i had a ton of plotbunnies i didnt think would suit the last thing so here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-02-11 05:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 60,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12928467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magumarashi/pseuds/magumarashi
Summary: Five years after the big finale at the Louvre and mere months after a surprise television appearance, the mysterious Arsene seems to have made a return to thievery--disrupting the otherwise idyllic lives of a certain former detective and a certain former phantom thief.





	1. Arrest

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I said I'm absolutely terrible at taking breaks from fanwork? Yeah
> 
> Surprise surprise, my attempt for nanowrimo this year ended up being yet another giant entry for this au. Though this is mostly an excuse to write the Ocean's 11-level heist fic of my dreams, ehehe... Anyway, this one really hits the ground running, so, uh. Buckle Up. And I hope ya'll enjoy it!!
> 
> The cover for this fic can be found [HERE](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/168240713277/the-cats-out-of-the-bag-the-next-installment-of)!!! this is the most ambitious thing ive drawn in a while, whoops
> 
> **Note regarding continuity:**  
>  Joker's Wild follows on from [Accomplice Ending](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11907573/chapters/26904132), which was itself the direct sequel to Love & Justice. If you missed AE when it was being posted, be sure to give it a read first; JW won't make a whole lot of sense without it!
> 
> **Note regarding tags and rating:**  
>  As with the previous E-rated entries in this series, I chose not to use specific tags for the sexual activities in this fic because the element of surprise is somewhat important to the story. I can, however, guarantee that the sex scenes are both plainly marked and 100% consensual. The characters have been aged up from the canon material; Akira is 25 while Goro is 26.

A knock sounded at the door of their apartment.

Goro Akechi thought little of it, at first. Their neighbors were all older women who occasionally stopped by to offer them excess baked goods. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for them to have unannounced visitors, even in the middle of the morning. Sighing, Goro stood up from the couch.

The knocks came again, more urgently this time: something wasn’t right. Goro cautiously headed toward the front door, and was about to take the handle when a voice came from the other side:

“This is the police. Is anyone home?”

Goro’s blood froze in his veins.

It was Sae Niijima’s voice.

He opened the door slowly, trying hard not to betray the fear welling up in his chest.

“Niijima-san,” he said with a disarming smile, “What brings you here?”

It was indeed Niijima on the other side, along with several uniformed officers. The fact that she’d brought backup with her was an immediate red flag. She held up her badge; not that he needed to see it to know who she was.

“Akechi-kun, sorry to bother you. Is your husband home?”

Now his fear cracked into full-blown panic.

“May I ask what this is about?” he asked, doing his best to keep his voice even.

“We have a warrant for his arrest.”

The seven words Goro hoped he’d be able to go his whole life without hearing. For a moment he froze, hand on the doorknob; he could only stare at his former partner as though she were a ghost.

“You can’t,” he said finally, “The statute of limitations--!”

“The case has been reopened,” said Niijima plainly. “Another calling card was found at a museum in downtown Tokyo and linked to Arsene. Short of any evidence to the contrary, Akira Kurusu is our prime suspect.”

As Goro stood there, paralyzed with shock, Akira’s voice floated in from the other room.

“Babe? Who’s at the door?”

“This is Detective Niijima with the Tokyo Police,” Niijima announced herself before Goro could get a word in. “Kurusu-san, if you’re there, can you please show yourself?”

Akira poked his head into the hallway, looking from Goro to Niijima and back again.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“Akira Kurusu,” said Niijima, “We’re placing you under arrest in connection with the thefts of priceless artwork under the pen name Arsene. The case was reopened following the discovery of a new calling card here in Tokyo. We’re going to need you to come with us back to the station for questioning. You also have the right to legal representation, and do not need to speak to us without first speaking to an attorney.”

There were a few tense minutes while Akira seemed to be weighing his options. Goro mentally begged him not to run; not to make this situation any worse--!

“Can I at least put some clothes on first?” asked Akira, smiling, “Wouldn’t want me going to the station in my pajamas…”

Goro was at first surprised his fiance could make a joke at a time like this, but at the same time, he really wasn’t. Akira was the kind of person who would crack jokes even with a gun to his head.

“You have five minutes,” said Niijima, “Any more than that and we’re bringing you to the station as is.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Let me get dressed as well,” said Goro, “I’ll just be a minute.”

“You don’t have to come with us, Akechi-kun,” said Niijima. “We just have a few questions for him. It shouldn’t take long.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Goro shot back, “It’s a lot more serious than just ‘questions’ if you have an arrest warrant lined up.”

“Please calm down, Akechi-kun,” said Niijima sharply, “You may come along, but don’t forget that you’re a civilian now.”

“I know…” he took a moment to check his anxiety. “I’ll be right out.”

“You better.”

Goro headed back into the house, leaving Niijima in the doorway. He found his fiance in their room, hastily pulling on a pair of jeans.

“Akira, I’m sorry…” Goro started.

“It’s not your fault.” Akira smiled at him. “I knew I’d get arrested eventually.”

“Don’t say that--!” the words caught in his throat. “This isn’t over. They have no legal grounds to detain you. Whatever this new evidence is, I’ll--!”

“Goro, hey…” Akira walked over and took his fiance in a tight embrace, “It’ll be fine. We have nothing to hide. That calling card has nothing to do with me.”

Goro held his fiance more tightly.

“You’d better not be lying to me…”

“I promised. No more lies.”

Goro nodded into his shoulder.

“We’ll figure something out,” Akira murmured, “We always have. Now get dressed, before Niijima walks in on us without pants on.”

“That’s not funny, Akira--!”

But Akira kissed him, briefly, and Goro found his worries lifting a little. He wanted to keep going--to drag Akira into a slow, deep kiss, knowing he might never get another chance--but they were short on time. He shed his own pajamas and threw on slacks and a button down shirt. Autumn was setting in; he donned his peacoat and gloves for good measure. By now Akira had finished dressing too--the same jeans and cardigan he’d been wearing the day they met. They went out to the hallway together, and Akira grabbed his keys, as if to make certain he’d be back.

“Kurusu-san, I’m going to have to handcuff you until we get to the station,” said Niijima. “This is just a precaution, you understand.”

“I don’t mind at all,” said Akira. He shot a sidelong grin at Goro as Niijima fastened the cuffs around his wrists, “Not my first time in handcuffs, it turns out.”

“Oh shut _up_ ,” said Goro, flushing in spite of himself.

“...I don’t want to know,” sighed Niijima, “In any case, our cars are waiting downstairs. Akechi-kun, you may ride with me.”

“Thank you.”

Goro remained at his fiance’s side the entire way down to the street, until an officer opened the door of a patrol car to admit him.

“I’ll get you out of this,” said Goro, “No matter what evidence they have on you, they can’t prove anything. I’ll make sure of it.”

“I know,” said Akira, smiling, “I have total faith in you, Goro.”

Goro wanted to sneak in one last kiss, but it was too late; Akira was already inside the car, and the door shut behind him.

“My car’s this way,” said Niijima. Goro jumped at her voice. “I’ll brief you on the way there.”

“What happened to my being a civilian?” asked Goro.

“You _were_ the lead on the Arsene case,” said Niijima. She leaned in closer, “I probably shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but… personally, I think you ought to know. Let’s go.”

“Right.”

Goro took one last look at the patrol car--it was already pulling away from the curb--before following detective Niijima to her car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am i intentionally paralleling the start of the game by cold opening this fic with Akira getting arrested? of course i am


	2. Interrogation Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niijima asks for Goro's opinion on their evidence before beginning her official interrogation.

Akira’s interrogation would be taking place in a back room at the station. Goro wouldn’t be allowed to observe, so Niijima took him to her office to show him the evidence before it would be brought to the interrogation room.

The calling card alone was fairly damning. It was undeniably the same stationery used by Arsene, and it matched samples they’d brought back from the Louvre. The fancy letter A was identical to the one on the card still tucked away in Goro’s wallet. The only difference was that this time, the message was in Japanese: kanji and kana had been cut from magazines and arranged to form complete sentences.

_To the Bridgestone Museum:_

_On the night of the 26th I will come to take several Longquan wares and return them to China. There is no need to prepare for me.  - Arsene._

“The Bridgestone Museum…” said Goro, “That’s where Akira works.”

“We know,” said Niijima, “That’s what lead us to believe this card was more than a simple hoax. There have been many such pranks around the world in the years since Arsene’s disappearance, but this one was just a little too plausible to leave alone. The man we’d identified as Arsene, and a calling card at the museum where he works…”

“Wait--what do you mean, the man we identified as Arsene?”

Niijima walked over to her desk, piled high with files and stacks of paper. She opened the topmost file and took a sheet of paper from it, holding it up to show him. It was a roster of Japanese exchange students, dated five years ago. Goro’s stomach sunk as he noticed Akira’s picture and name circled in red pen near the middle of the page.

“The statute of limitations was up by the time I pinpointed him,” said Niijima.

“Right…” said Goro. Akira’s name on the list of employees at the targeted museum would have thrown up an instant red flag. Goro had to admit it was an unfortunate coincidence, but he couldn’t believe that Akira would do something like this. “When was this card discovered?”

“Three days ago.”

“Aha.”

“Hm?”

Goro smiled.

“We were on vacation in Kyoto all last week,” he said, “We just returned yesterday, and we were taking today off work and school to recuperate. It would have been impossible for Akira to plant that card.”

“Are you able to corroborate this?” asked Niijima.

“Here,” Goro got out his phone and pulled up his email, “I have our hotel reservations on file. You’re welcome to call the hotel to confirm.”

“I’ll have one of the interns check it out,” said Niijima. She took out a pen and a small notepad to copy down the phone and reservation numbers, “If it’s true that you were both on vacation, then your fiance might have a chance…”

She trailed off, but Goro caught her meaning all the same.

“I would ask Akira about Arsene’s target,” Goro continued, “I don’t know anything about the pieces on display at the Bridgestone, but it strikes me as odd that Arsene would specify which piece he’s after. All of the other cards were more vague--aside from Nefertiti, of course.”

“I see…” said Niijima.

“He’s usually more specific about _why_ he’s stealing a piece,” said Goro, putting a hand to his chin, “He wants to make sure we know he believes he’s right, even if he doesn’t specify which item he’s after. But this card only says, vaguely, ‘return them to China’. Their provenance is less clear. Actually, on a second look, this card doesn’t sound like Arsene at all.”

“I knew bringing you along would be a good idea,” said Niijima with a smile.

“... you don’t believe Akira planted this card, do you, Niijima-san?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe it,” said Niijima, “It’s my job to believe whatever we have evidence to prove. But in my experience, a young man with a steady job, an apartment, and a cute fiance wouldn’t fall back on thievery so easily.”

Goro flushed a little.

“... thank you, Niijima-san.”

Niijima lifted her wrist to check her watch.

“The initial round of questioning should be ending soon,” she said, “I have to head down there now. May I get the card back?”

Goro handed her the card, and she tucked it into her purse along with the student roster.

“I can’t bring you with me to the interrogation room,” said Niijima, “But I can get you some coffee and set you up in the lobby, if you’d like. You may be asked to provide an official testimony based on what you’ve told me so far.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Niijima moved to leave the room, and Goro followed her out. His stomach was still in knots, but he took heart knowing that Akira at least had an alibi. Getting them to drop the charges was no longer an impossibility. All he had to do was turn that chance into a certainty.

_Just be patient, Akira… I promised I’d get you out of this, and I don’t intend to back down._

* * *

Akira sat quietly in the interrogation room, the silence weighing on his ears.

The first round of officers had left a few minutes ago, and they’d had only basic questions for him. They asked in particular about his criminal record--the assault charge he’d been branded with in high school. His clean probation log was enough to clear their doubts, but he couldn’t help but feel they still distrusted him.

This was just the beginning, though. The real questioning would come from Detective Niijima, and even though he knew his own innocence, he dreaded what kind of evidence she’d dug up against him.

He looked down at his hands, still linked at the wrists. The handcuffs weren’t on very tight; if he really wanted, he might be able to slip out of them. That would cause quite a few more problems than it would solve…

The door banged open, and Akira jumped. Detective Niijima strode in, closing the door more quietly behind herself.

“Kurusu-san,” Niijima began, “Before I begin my questions, here’s a reminder that I cannot force you to testify against yourself, and you do not have to say anything to me before speaking to an attorney.”

“That won’t be necessary,” said Akira.

“You seem confident about that.”

“Of course I am. I have nothing to hide,” said Akira. He brought his hands up above the table, showing her his empty palms. In reality, the confidence was just a facade; his heart was beating faster than it ever had in his life. But, as usual, his strategy for worming out of tough situations was to keep a cool head and a jesting attitude. “I would have asked for an attorney hours ago if I thought you had anything on me, detective.”

“Alright. We’ll see, then.”

She set her purse down and took a seat across from him.

“How did the initial round go?” Niijima asked. “They weren’t too rough with you, were they?”

“Not at all,” said Akira, “They were quite pleasant compared to the last time I got interrogated.”

“When was this?”

“In high school. It was about the assault charge on my record--which was bogus, by the way.”

“I’m sure,” said Niijima, “Well, I’m sorry you had a bad experience. I won’t be making this any worse for you.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Just ‘Niijima’ is fine,” said the detective.

“Ah, okay. Quick question,” said Akira, “Any relation to a Makoto Niijima?”

Niijima seemed taken aback, but she quickly recovered.

“She’s my younger sister,” she said, “Why do you ask?”

“Ah, no reason,” said Akira, “We went to high school together, that’s all.”

“I see… It’s a small world, I suppose.”

“We dated for a little bit,” Akira went on, “Three months, maybe? It was just a fling. We weren’t all that compatible.”

“Kurusu-san, I’d like to ask you to stay on topic.”

“Right, sorry.”

Niijima leaned over to her purse and took from it a small ziploc bag.

“Can you take a look at this, please?”

Akira took the ziploc from her; inside was a small red card with a fancy letter _A_ emblazoned on the back.

“You know what this is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” said Akira. Seeming to realize what he’d said, he added, “Who doesn’t know what Arsene’s calling cards--!”

“You don’t have to pretend, Kurusu-san.” Niijima took the student roster from her bag and handed it to him. He looked it over, eyes widening. “We’ve known you were the real Arsene--we were just unable to do anything about it until now. What I want from you is a confirmation of whether or not that calling card is yours.”

“It’s not,” said Akira simply.

“Please at least read it.”

Akira turned the card over to investigate. He was surprised to see it addressed to the Bridgestone Museum.

“... this doesn’t make any sense,” he said, reading it a few times over, “I work there; I would have heard something by now…”

“The card was discovered three days ago.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Akira, sitting back. “Goro and I were on vacation until yesterday. He can prove it; he’s the one who made the reservations.”

“Where were you staying?”

“At an APA Hotel in Kyoto--the one closest to Kyoto station.”

“I see,” said Niijima, “Is there anything else you can tell me about the card? Anything about the target that sticks out to you?”

Akira read it over another time.

“Longquan wares…” he murmured vaguely, “But that doesn’t make sense either…”

“Why not?”

“All the Longquan wares in the Ishibashi collection have been in Japan for hundreds of years,” he said, “They were imported from China in the 14th century and sold as commodities. This isn’t the kind of piece Arsene would target. It’d be like stealing a pair of Nikes and trying to return them to America.”

“Interesting…” Niijima got out her notebook so she could jot this down.

“If I were this Arsene--and I’m not--I would have gone for the western antiquities,” said Akira, “We have a few pieces in the museum collection that were almost certainly looted from the Middle East. It strikes me as downright weird that a copycat is targeting something this unremarkable...”

“So you think it’s a copycat, then?”

“It has to be. Only an amateur would see an imported Longquan vase and think China wanted it back.”

Niijima frowned, adding a few things to her notes.

“Thank you,” she said, “I think that’s all the testimony I need at this time.”

She stood up, replacing the calling card and student roster in her purse. Akira knew better than to ask whether he was free to go.

“If we find that there’s enough evidence to prove your innocence, the charges will be dropped,” said Niijima, “And that includes the ones from five years ago. If this is truly a different Arsene, then this is a different case, and the old case will be re-closed.”

“Thank you, detective. Just one question.”

“Make it quick.”

“Can I see my fia--Akechi?”

“Sorry, but you have to remain in here by yourself until we reach a decision,” said Niijima, smiling. “We wouldn’t want anyone ‘accidentally’ aiding your escape this time.”

Akira gulped.

“How’s he holding up…?”

“He’s fine, as far as I can tell. That boy has nerves of steel.”

“So, he’s probably not fine…” Akira murmured to himself.

“Hm?”

“Nothing. Tell the younger Niijima I say hi, will you?”

“You can tell her yourself. She works at the precinct now.”

“Ah…”

Niijima left him with that thought; the door opened and closed with a clatter, and he was alone again. He looked around: at the white walls, the plain metal table. The mirror across from him that almost certainly had a window on the other side. Who could be watching him right now…? The thought sent chills down his spine--in any other situation, he’d probably find it a little kinky. If his fiance were the one behind the glass…

_No, no, no dirty thoughts, Akira. You’re still in custody. This isn’t a game._

He forced himself to think about something else, and found himself picturing the calling card again. For an amateur, they’d gone to incredible lengths to make the card look authentic. It was indistinguishable from his own stationery--all of which he’d left with Morgana in France.

_“_ _Something tells me you won’t be the last Arsene, either.”_

Akira recalled Morgana’s words that night, driving through the French countryside after his final heist. He’d already given up the name Arsene, but someone else could have easily taken up the mantle. His own training had only taken two years. Could this copycat really be…?

_That would explain the stationery, but not the message. Ugh, my head hurts…_

Akira tried to clear his head, but the nagging worry wouldn’t go away. He fiddled with the silver band on his ring finger, absentmindedly, trying not to let the anxiety overtake him…


	3. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to a rock-solid alibi, Akira is released from police custody--but with this new "Arsene" at large, he and Goro both know their worries are far from over.

Akira was unsure how long he’d been sitting in the interrogation room. After a length of time that could as easily have been two hours as five minutes, the door opened again. The sound of heels clacking on the concrete floor indicated that Niijima had returned to get him.

“Kurusu-san.”

Akira looked up at her.

“Detective.”

“You’re in luck. You and your husband’s testimonies were enough to cast doubt on our evidence. You’re free to go.”

Akira stared at her.

“You mean it?”

“Yes. Come here, I’ll get those cuffs off you.”

Akira stood, some part of him still trying to process the news as he headed toward the door. Niijima took a key from her pocket and undid the handcuffs; Akira massaged his wrists.

_I think I like restraints better, actually._

“Thank you…” said Akira quietly. All his earlier cockiness was gone now; more than anything, he really just wanted to return home. “Where’s…?”

“Your husband is waiting for you in the lobby.”

They headed out toward the elevator, and Niijima tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble this has caused you.”

“It’s…” he paused on the word ‘fine,’ because it wasn’t fine--not really. He’d spent the bulk of the day in custody, doing nothing but trying to deal with the anxiety of not knowing whether he’d get to see his fiance again. “You did what you had to, Niijima-san.”

They barely spoke another word to each other as the elevator climbed back to the ground floor. The doors opened up into the main lobby, and Niijima stepped out first. Akira followed her, scanning the room for…!

“Akira!”

Goro was waiting for him in one of the chairs near the front door. He jumped to his feet and came running the moment Akira came into view. Akira opened his arms to catch him, taking his fiance into a tight embrace. The two of them stood like that for a long time, ignoring the officers and office ladies hurrying around them--for the moment, nothing else mattered. The rest of the world slowed to a stop.

Niijima watched them patiently, giving them an appropriate amount of space.

“Niijima-san,” Goro said finally, turning slightly to look at her, “Is he--?”

“Thanks to your testimony, we’ve determined beyond reasonable doubt that Kurusu-san is no longer a likely suspect in this case,” she said. “We apologize for the inconvenience.”

“Thank god…” Goro buried his face into Akira’s neck, “If I hadn’t insisted on coming along…”

“Shh,” said Akira gently, rubbing his back, “Let’s go home, alright?”

“Yeah…” Goro gripped his partner’s cardigan as though that were the only thing keeping him from slipping away.

“I can drive you home, if you’d like,” said Niijima.

“You’re not busy?” asked Goro.

“It’s the least I can do to make it up to you,” said Niijima, “Come on.”

Goro and Akira finally released each other, but Akira’s hand snuck over to his fiance’s and gripped it tightly. He had nothing to worry about now, but he didn’t want to take any chances--not until they were both back in the apartment, with the door shut and locked. The two of them left the building hand in hand, following Niijima to her car.

“You can sit up front if you’d like, Akechi-kun,” Niijima offered, opening the passenger door, “Or--with your husband in the back, if you’d prefer.”

“Sorry,” Goro was already sliding in next to Akira in the back seat. “It’s… been a rough morning.”

“I understand.”

Niijima got in the driver’s seat, and before long they were rolling south along the freeway. Akira’s stomach growled, and it occurred to him that he must have missed lunch. A quick glance at the dashboard clock told him it was now mid-afternoon. Had he really been detained for so long…?

Goro leaned on him slightly, their hands still intertwined. Akira rubbed his thumb over his partner’s ring.

“Can I ask something, Niijima-san?” asked Goro.

“Hm?” Niijima didn’t take her eyes off the road, but she tilted her head to indicate she was listening.

“What made the investigation change its mind?”

Niijima paused before responding.

“I’m not sure I can give specifics,” she said. “But I will say that it was hard to argue with an alibi as solid as yours. Kurusu’s testimony helped as well--you were right in suggesting that I ask him about the target.”

“I see…” said Goro.

“Looks like you saved my ass again, babe,” said Akira, smiling weakly.

“Is now _really_ the time--?”

Akira squeezed his fiance’s hand, gently--humor was about the only thing keeping him together at the moment. Goro seemed to get the message. They were quiet for the rest of the ride back to their apartment.

* * *

Their flat waited exactly the way they’d left it. The faintest scent of incense still lingered from the _butsudan;_ the scent of bacon from the kitchen. The TV still blared in the main room, though the show they’d been watching that morning was long over. Goro switched the TV off first thing, his still-shaky hands fumbling a little to find the right button on the remote. Normally the sound was comforting for him, but right now--the two of them needed some peace.

Akira got himself a snack from the kitchen to quiet his rumbling stomach, though truthfully he wasn’t feeling up to eating. He was still trying to process the afternoon, and processing food on top of that sounded like a chore. Goro found him in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with a half-eaten granola bar in his hand.

“You…” Goro began. It was pointless to ask if Akira was okay, so he scrambled to find something else he could ask. “Do want me to give you some space?”

Akira shook his head.

“I had space all afternoon,” he said quietly, “I… right now I just want to be with you, Goro. If that’s alright.”

“Of course it is,” said Goro. He wanted the same thing; a desire so powerful it left a physical ache in his heart. “Here--put the granola bar down, or finish it. Let’s not get any crumbs in the bed…”

Akira set his snack on the nightstand and lay down on the bed. Goro shed his coat before joining him, throwing an arm around his partner’s back and snuggling up close. They were quiet at first, but over time the trauma of the afternoon slowly settled in. Before he realized it, Akira was trembling in his arms.

“It’s alright,” Goro murmured, rubbing his back. “I’m here… you’re safe…”

How many times had Akira done the same for him--on the nights his bad dreams got out of hand, the times paranoia reared its ugly head? Those problems seemed distant now, almost miniscule compared to what they’d gone through that day. The kind of stress he’d faced that afternoon would have made his nightmares blush.

“What about you?” Akira asked, finally, “Are you… holding up okay?”

“Better than before,” Goro admitted, “At the station I almost broke down crying from the nerves alone. That would’ve been embarrassing…”

Even as he said it, his eyes filled with tears.

“I just… the thought of losing you, after everything I’ve done to keep you safe…”

Akira brought a hand up to Goro’s cheek, wiping his tears away with his thumb.

“You can cry now, though,” he said, “I won’t tell anyone.”

Goro nodded, and a light sob escaped his throat.

“Akira…”

“Go on. I’ll cry too.” Akira’s voice wavered a little. “I could use it…”

Goro dissolved in his arms, finally letting out all the pent-up fear and stress from the last few hours. Akira followed soon after, more quietly--modest, voiceless sobs that seemed to catch in his throat. It occurred to Goro that he’d never seen his fiance cry in the years they’d been together; Akira was usually the one wiping Goro’s tears away.

Akira tilted his head forward, meeting his fiance’s lips. After the cold, sterile atmosphere of the interrogation room, the warmth of his partner’s skin on his was a welcome comfort. Goro answered his kiss gently at first, still hiccuping a little--but before long he curled his body into Akira’s, tangling their legs together, as if trying to hold every part of him at once.

“Goro…?” Akira pulled back just briefly enough to say his partner’s name. Goro was at his lips again in an instant.

_He’s safe_ , Goro reminded himself. _He’s safe… He’s mine, and no one has the right to take him from me…!_

“Goro, if you hold me any tighter, you’ll…!”

“Oh, sorry--!”

Goro hadn’t realized just how strong his grip was; he released Akira and bashfully withdrew. Not quite willing to let him go completely, Akira scooted closer to him. For a while he simply gazed into his partner’s eyes, brushing wayward strands of hair from his face.

“Feeling a little better?” Akira asked softly. Goro nodded to him. “Me too. Though, I bet I look like shit, huh…”

Goro laughed a little at this.

“We _have_ been crying. I must look like a mess too…”

“Nah,” said Akira, “You’re beautiful even when you cry, babe.”

“Oh, stop.”

Goro reached over to the nightstand for the box of tissues; the two of them sat up and took a moment to get their faces cleaned up. Goro piled their spent tissues on the nightstand for the time being; the trash can across the room was farther from Akira than he wanted to be at the moment.

“Here,” said Akira, smiling. “Come here.”

Akira shifted onto his back, and Goro crawled over to rest his head on his chest. Akira’s anxiety had mostly subsided now, the numbness waned; he’d started to feel more like himself again.

Even still, a nagging worry still pressed at the back of his mind: the case was far from over. If the police were unable to catch this copycat “Arsene,” would they turn their gaze back to him?

“Goro?”

“Hm?”

“I think… I’m gonna try to take the graveyard shift on the 26th.”

“The 26th…?” Goro frowned, “That’s…”

“The night that guy’s planning to rob the Bridgestone,” said Akira, “If that ‘Arsene’ shows up, I can deal with him personally.”

“But won’t it look even _more_ suspicious if you take that shift?”

“Maybe,” said Akira, “But if I take that shift and catch the guy in the act…”

“It’s risky,” Goro didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t know… if something goes wrong, you could be implicated again.”

Akira knew it was risky; that much was obvious. If the Longquan wares disappeared, he wouldn’t have a good alibi--he would, in fact, be in the worst possible place at the worst possible time. But he couldn’t shake his own curiosity, either. Was this copycat a professional, or just some kid pulling a dumb prank? And if it really _was_ the next Arsene, could he get some leverage by mentioning Morgana…?

“I want to get to the bottom of this, Goro.”

“And I don’t want to lose you.”

The tone of Goro’s voice alone made Akira reconsider for a moment.

But Akira Kurusu was the kind of man who, having made up his mind to do something, could not possibly be talked out of it.

He was ready to confront “Arsene” whether his fiance liked it or not.

“How’s this,” he said, “I’ll see if I can get that shift, but I might not. It’s possible someone else needs it, or my boss won’t let me have it.”

“Okay…” said Goro, “And if you do get it…?”

“Then I’ll make damn sure the museum has a quiet night.”

“You better.”

“And I’ll come back home at dawn, and crawl into bed, and kiss you awake…”

“If I’m not up all night worrying about you.”

Akira kissed the top of Goro’s head gently.

“With any luck, dear, this’ll be the last time I have to make you worry.”

Goro still wasn’t convinced, but he knew his fiance could be as stubborn as a mule when he wanted to be. He wrapped his arms around Akira’s waist and gave him a needy squeeze.

“Alright…” Goro finally relented.

“And I’ll make it up to you with some fantastic wake-up sex.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, you know,” said Goro.

“I have no doubt,” said Akira, smile widening into a grin, “And I fully intend to deliver.”

The tension between them eased a little as they bantered; for some reason, Akira found himself in a lighthearted mood. Lying in his own bed, in his own apartment, with his beautiful, brilliant, _perfect_ fiance in his arms…

If the odds were stacked against him, then so be it.

_Let them come. Let them_ **_dare_ ** _to take this from me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me writing AE: only smiles and warm feelings are allowed  
> me writing this: alright boys let's crank that angst meter up to eleven


	4. The Next Arsene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big night arrives, and Akira's graveyard shift couldn't be going more smoothly.

“Tachibana? I’m gonna head out on my rounds.”

“Alright. I’ll hold down the fort--not that there’s much to hold down.”

“See you in a few.”

Akira yawned as he left the security room at the Bridgestone. His watch read just after 3 in the morning on the 26th. He’d managed to compromise with both Goro and his boss: the language of the calling card was vague enough that two nights presented a risk. The thief could either strike in the early hours of the morning on the 26th, or before midnight on the same day. Akira took the early morning shift, entrusting the evening shift to a coworker.

And so far, so good. The museum had been completely silent thus far, and the security cameras were all displaying normally. Akira was in good spirits as he patrolled the museum, shining his flashlight into dark corners and into the vents on the ceiling. If this kept up, he could be off the hook for good.

He made his way to the Asian antiquities hall, where the Longquan wares sat placidly in their display case. He swept the room with his flashlight, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

_Good. All clear. This’ll be easier than I thought…_

As he was thinking this, there was a sudden weight at his back; an arm reached around and caught him in a headlock.

“Agh--!”

Akira acted quickly. He leaned forward and worked his arm around to the front of their body while keeping a leg behind theirs. This was all the leverage he needed; he jabbed backwards with his elbow and knocked the attacker over his leg. They were both on the ground in seconds; his opponent winded, Akira jumped back to his feet.

“Stay right where you are,” said Akira, brandishing his flashlight. It was the only thing he had on him that could be used as a weapon. “Don’t move…”

His eyes widened as he registered what he saw.

His assailant was wearing a black leather coat, red gloves, and a ghoulish helmet. An outfit that was all too familiar.

“... Arsene, I presume?”

The attacker sat up, slowly, still wheezing slightly beneath the helmet. He took a dazed look around, seeming to be weighing his options.

“If you try to pull anything funny, I’ll knock you out for real,” said Akira. “Understand?”

Arsene nodded.

“Now, I want you to take that helmet off so I can see your face.”

Arsene hesitated.

“... Kurusu?”

The timid voice that came from the helmet sounded as though it was coming through a radio; he could still discern its owner. And unfortunately, it was a voice he recognized.

“.... Mishima?!”

Arsene reached up and took the helmet off, revealing the youthful face beneath. Yuuki Mishima stared back at him from the floor.

“... alright,” Akira crossed his arms, “You’d better have a good explanation for what you’re doing sneaking around a closed museum at three in the morning. In cosplay, no less.”

“W… well…” Mishima rubbed the back of his head bashfully.

“And I don’t suppose that calling card was you too?”

“Yeah…”

Akira sighed.

“What’s this about?” he asked.

“Well,” said Mishima, “I wanted to see if I could do it--sneak into a museum, I mean. Arsene made it look so easy, and it sounded like fun…”

“And attacking a security guard sounded fun too, is that it?” said Akira.

“I didn’t think anyone would be on patrol. I panicked…”

“Yeah, _sure_ , I believe that.”

Mishima smiled awkwardly.

“I guess I got a little carried away…” he admitted, “To tell you the truth, I was trying to make a video and post it online as if it was really Arsene. It’d be the next big internet mystery! The Phandom would’ve loved it…”

“This kind of thing isn’t a game, Mishima,” said Akira sternly, “You could’ve seriously hurt me with that headlock, you know. Not to mention breaking and entering is definitely illegal.”

“Sorry…”

“But…” he smiled. “From one Arsene to another… I gotta admit, I’m impressed you made it this far on your own.”

Mishima’s eyes lit up.

“So--is it true? Are you really…? I mean, I had my suspicions after the NHK broadcast, but I didn’t think you’d really be him--!”

Akira put a finger to his lips.

“Don’t tell anyone, alright?” he said with a sly wink. “Oh, but tell Morgana I said hi.”

Mishima tilted his head to the side.

“... Morgana? Who’s that?”

“Ah, nevermind.”

_So that rules out that possibility… guess he really is acting alone._

What remained was what to do with him.

Akira had been trained for what to do in the event of a robbery: get the police involved and file a report. The police would likely slap Mishima’s wrist with a criminal mischief charge and leave it at that, but if Akira testified about the attack, an assault charge could easily go with it. That didn’t quite sit well with him; Akira knew what criminal charges could do to someone’s reputation. For something as dumb as this…

“Listen,” said Akira, “Normally with shit like this I’m supposed to hold you here until the cops show up, but I owe you one for helping me at the TV station. Go straight home, alright? And don’t tell a single person this happened.”

“… you mean it?” said Mishima.

“Sure,” said Akira, “This is just a one time favor, though--if I catch you back here trying to play phantom thief again, I won’t be so lenient next time.”

“Thanks, Kurusu…” Mishima looked down bashfully.

“Just… stay out of trouble, alright?” said Akira, “Trust me, you don’t want to have a criminal record.”

“Okay…”

Akira walked Mishima to the entrance and showed him out before locking the glass doors behind him. He jotted down some notes in his notebook before heading back to the security room, making a note of the approximate time of the incident and the steps he’d taken to de-escalate. He’d have to check for bruising on his neck, too… He had no plans to turn Mishima in, or even file a report--no harm, no foul--but if anything else came up, he wanted to have a record of what happened.

Hopefully, his little favor wouldn’t get him in trouble. He’d successfully defused a tense situation and prevented a crime--which was what he was paid to do.

Akira found Tachibana loafing off in front of the monitors, checking something on his phone. He jumped as Akira walked in.

“Oh, Kurusu! Took you a little longer than usual.”

“Yeah,” Akira rubbed his neck a little, “Got distracted looking at the Monets again.”

“That’s just like you, huh,” Tachibana laughed. “Well, so far, so good… haven’t had anything on the monitors tonight, either.”

Akira started. He’d forgotten about the security cameras--his and Mishima’s fight would have been captured on film. As long as nothing else happened and he kept his mouth shut, nobody would ever think to check them.

Still, though…

“You sure there hasn’t been anything?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Tachibana frowned, “I watched your whole patrol. Why, something happen?”

“Oh, no… just being cautious. Arsene could strike while we’re not looking.”

“Right,” said Tachibana. “Your turn to be on monitors for a while--I gotta pee.”

“I’ll hold down the fort.”

Akira took Tachibana’s seat, and the latter left the room. Akira wanted to rewind the tapes just to double-check--but, not wanting to risk getting walked in on with incriminating footage, he decided to hold off for the time being. Tachibana returned shortly after, and the two chatted for a bit about current events. Finally, at about four AM, Tachibana left the room again to go on his rounds.

Akira was at the keyboard the second Tachibana closed the door. He pulled up the camera for the Asian Antiquities wing and rolled back the footage about an hour and fifteen minutes for good measure. He stared at it intently as it rolled, watching for anything out of the ordinary. At about the ten minute mark, a figure in a security guard uniform came into the room and made a pass around the displays with his flashlight before leaving again. For the remainder of the footage, the room was still.

_That’s… where’s Mishima? The assault? We should have been right in front of the cameras…_

He checked the other cameras, fast-forwarding through footage to scan for any abnormalities--but there were none. He could follow the path of his patrol easily, and there were no signs of a struggle at any stage. Except…

_The order is all wrong. I started in the Western-style paintings room, then went to the Japanese paintings, then Near Eastern antiquities, then the Asian antiquities. Unless these are out of order… whoever’s on this screen isn’t me._

He compared footage between cameras, but it didn’t seem like they’d been taken out of order. The timestamps all matched up correctly. The man on camera went to the Near Eastern antiquities first, then Asian, then Japanese paintings, and finally Western paintings.

Akira glanced over at the whiteboard on the wall, where a shift calendar had been scrawled earlier that week. Tonight it was Akira and Tachibana on duty, but last night had been a different pair--Izumi and Nanase.

Akira checked the footage a final time. Nanase was recognizable on camera--he’d bleached his hair a few months ago. Izumi had dark, straight hair, and was shorter than Akira was. It was hard to tell from the poor resolution, but the figure on the camera more closely resembled Izumi than Akira.

_So this is yesterday’s footage with today’s timestamp._

_And I just let him walk right out of here…_

_… Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after being mentioned in passing in both previous fics, mishima finally makes a proper appearance! (congrats to everyone who read my one-off chapter notes in AE and called it lmao)
> 
> also, continuing my habit of pulling one-off names from idolish7, whoops


	5. Wake-up Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are not going as smoothly as Akira had hoped.

The rest of his shift passed without incident--which was good, because he had enough problems as it was. He swept the museum more thoroughly on his final rounds, but there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. None of the vents were open, no secret crawl spaces or stolen artifacts. As far as he could tell, Mishima had left the museum just as pristine as he’d found it.

Near the end of his shift he got out his phone. There was a chance he could get ahold of Mishima directly…

_ Hey listen, I know you said you were inspired and whatever, but that camera shit was a little more serious than criminal mischief. I know you’re good with computers but that’s not something you could have done yourself. I want you to be honest with me, alright? I want you to tell me who put you up to this. _

By the time his shift ended, he still hadn’t heard back. He supposed it was understandable; Mishima  _ had _ been up late--and apparently, had been sneaking around the museum all night. But he couldn’t help feeling like he was being deliberately ignored.

He composed another email on the train home.

_ Look, believe it or not, I’ve been in your shoes. I know what it’s like to be outside the law. You can trust me. If you just tell me the truth, I won’t turn you in. I’ll let this be the end of it and we’ll both walk away. I might even help you out, because I know which pieces in there have less-than-stellar provenances. (Hint: it’s not the Longquan wares). But if you can’t be upfront with me, well--turning you over to the police is the next step, because I could be in very hot water if I don’t say anything about this. _

It was a while before Mishima replied; Akira was already almost at his apartment. He loitered around outside the entrance to read Mishima’s response.

_ From Mishima: _

_ I don’t know what this is about, but I definitely didn’t rig any cameras. _

Akira stared at his phone, too shocked to come up with a reply.

“What the hell…?”

Had he imagined the whole thing after all? The assault, their conversation, even the differing footage… he didn’t work grave shifts that often, maybe he just wasn’t used to being awake at this hour?

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking for one last-ditch confirmation that he wasn’t going crazy. The bruises from the headlock still stung. 

_ No. He was definitely there. _

The sky was beginning to lighten in the east. Akira’s hands shook as he tapped out a response.

_ From Akira: _

_ Don’t do this, Mishima, we have the tapes. There’s no evidence of our fight. Nothing. If that wasn’t Morgana who was it? _

He waited out in the cold November morning for a few more minutes, but he didn’t receive any new messages. Defeated, he headed back inside. Goro would still be asleep at this hour…

_ It’s alright, Akira, calm down. The museum was quiet the whole rest of the night, and nothing was stolen. The police will chalk up the calling card to an empty prank. A hoax. But if Mishima really IS the next Arsene, and he sends another card, I could be in deep shit. _

_ I’ll give him until tomorrow to tell me the truth. Either way… I don’t really want to rat him out, but this is my freedom on the line here. My future with Goro is worth way more than a favor to a friend.  _

He was at his apartment now; he opened the door as quietly as possible. He found Goro asleep in their bed, huddled under a couple of blankets. The sight of him sleeping so peacefully brought a smile to Akira’s face.

_ Whatever. I’ll deal with this when I get up. There’s not a lot we can do right now… _

He shed his clothes and climbed into bed, cuddling up next to his fiance. Goro stirred, shifting to be closer to him. For a brief moment, Akira was able to forget his fears; his exhaustion from the late night finally caught up to him. Lulled by his fiance’s gentle breathing, he drifted off to sleep… 

* * *

Sunlight was filtering through the window by the time Akira opened his eyes again. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sleeping; it certainly didn’t feel very long. Goro was still snoozing next to him. Akira shifted to get a glance at the clock on his nightstand: it was just after eleven in the morning.

_ Goro hates sleeping in this late… I should wake him. _

Akira rolled back over and put an arm around his fiance, laying a gentle kiss at his back.

“Goro,” he purred.

Goro let out a soft grunt in response.

“Mmf…?”

“Goro~” Akira repeated, more loudly this time. He kissed a line along his partner’s shoulder, stopping just under his nape. Goro jumped a little at his touch.

“Wh… Akira?”

“Someone order a wakeup call?” said Akira softly. He brushed some of Goro’s hair aside and laid a kiss on his neck.

“Mm.” Goro turned his head to look at him. “Morning….”

“Good morning, beautiful,” said Akira.

“You’re back…” Goro murmured.

“I’ve been back for about five hours, dear.”

“Five…?” Goro looked over to the clock on his own nightstand, “Jeez, is it really that late…?”

“Yep.”

“Ugh…” 

Goro shifted a little, leaning into Akira’s embrace.

“I guess it figures,” he said, “I had a lot of trouble getting to sleep last night.”

“Aw,” said Akira, “Up late worrying about me?”

“Well, yes.” Goro frowned. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d do if you didn’t come back…”

“Well, here I am,” said Akira. He brushed his lips over his partner’s nape, “And I believe I owe you some wake-up sex.”

Goro couldn’t help laughing a little.

“That’s true… did you have anything in mind?”

“Hmm, I think I’ll let  _ you _ choose,” said Akira, smile widening into a grin. “I’m all yours. Any special requests?”

“Well…” Goro rolled over to look his fiance in the eyes, “I have a couple of ideas for where you could start…”

He met Akira’s lips with his own, gentle and brief--it was over almost as soon as it began. Akira licked his lips and leaned in for another pass. His tongue darted into his partner’s mouth, and Goro answered with his own. Akira leaned backward, dragging his fiance with him to the pillows…

… and pain shot up in his shoulders and back the second he put weight on them.

“Agh--ow…!”

Goro jumped, releasing him immediately.

“Are you alright--?!”

Akira sat up and put a hand on the back of his neck. Pain flared with even the slightest pressure.

“It’s my neck.”

“What happened?”

“I…” Akira hesitated before responding. There were any number of lies he could have told to mask the ugly truth--but he remembered his promise to Goro. No more lies. “Actually, I got attacked…”

“On the way home?”

“No, no. At work.” 

“You mean, Arsene--?”

“Yeah.” Akira’s heart was pounding. “I managed to throw him off.”

“That’s good, at least,” said Goro. “Then--is it over? Did they catch him?”

“Er,” Akira hesitated again. Yet another opportunity to lie and save face--but was it really worth it? “So I might have done something stupid.”

Goro furrowed his brow.

“How stupid?”

“So, for context, he told me he was trying to make a viral video by sneaking into a museum. It was someone I knew from high school, and I didn’t think he meant any harm, so…”

“Ohhhh my god.” Goro put a hand to his forehead, “Please don’t tell me you let him walk.”

“Okay, then I won’t tell you.”

“A viral video…” Goro sighed, “That’s got to be the flimsiest excuse I’ve ever heard. I honestly don’t know what to say to you right now.”

“Guess I make a better thief than a detective,” said Akira wryly.

“Apparently!”

The mood was gone now; there was an uneasy silence between them. Goro got out of bed, grabbing his phone off the nightstand.

“What are you--?” Akira asked.

“I’m calling Detective Niijima.”

“Are you gonna turn me in--?”

“I’m going to tell her we have a lead on Arsene.”

Goro turned to him.

“You said you knew him from high school, didn’t you?” he said, “That means we have a suspect. Letting him escape was indescribably stupid, but it would be even  _ more _ stupid not to tell anyone the truth. Not when your testimony could bring him down.”

“Right…” Akira looked down, fidgeting uncomfortably with the sheets. 

Goro’s expression softened.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” he said.

“Yeah…” Akira couldn’t meet his gaze. He wasn’t sure if he felt better or worse for having told the truth, but Goro’s thanks convinced him that he’d made the right decision. At the very least, he could trust his fiance to have his back.

Goro found the detective’s number in his contacts and put the phone to his ear.

“Detective Niijima? It’s Akechi…”

He was on the phone for a few minutes, giving a vague account of the situation and promising to explain in person. After finishing his call, Goro sat back down on the bed and placed a hand on his fiance’s shoulder.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get dressed and have breakfast. Niijima will be expecting us in a few hours.”

Akira nodded to him, slowly.

“You must be exhausted from last night,” said Goro, something kinder in his tone. “I’ll make you breakfast, at least.”

“Thanks…”

“And you should probably see a doctor about your neck.”

Akira smiled.

“I’ll be fine, babe. One thing at a time.”

He watched as his fiance got dressed, the smile never leaving his face.

_ The way he fusses over me sometimes… it’s kinda cute. _

_ I’ll have to do something to make it up to him, once all of this is over--an apology for making him worry. Maybe take him out to his favorite restaurant, then bring him back home and fuck him any way he wants…! _

“Akira, are you coming?”

“Right, right.”

Leaving his inappropriate thoughts on the pillows, Akira got out of bed to join his fiance at the closet doors. They would likely have a long day ahead of them.

_ Well. There’ll be plenty of time to think about it. Hopefully... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> akira continues fucking up spectacularly: the fanfic


	6. Testimony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira tells Niijima the truth of what happened the previous night, but things may not be all sunshine and daisies from here...

The two of them made it to the police station in Shibuya by early afternoon. Akira tensed up just walking in the door--he’d been hoping he’d never have to set foot in a police station again. They met Detective Niijima in the lobby, file folders in hand, and walked with her back to her office. Akira was relieved to find out that he wouldn't be questioned in the interrogation room this time.

“Why don’t you two sit down?” the detective offered, indicating to a couple of folding chairs stacked against the wall. Akira and Goro set them up and took their seats across from Niijima’s desk. As they did so, Niijima took a small device from her purse.

“Fair warning that I’m going to record this conversation.”

“Fine by me,” said Akira.

“You remember your rights?”

“I do.”

“So,” said Niijima, “According to your coworker at the museum, nothing happened last night. You’re telling me something _did_ happen?”

“Well… yeah,” Akira looked away nervously. “I’m sorry, I know I should have said something--!”

“Kurusu, it’s fine. Just tell me what happened. We’ll worry about whether or not you’re in trouble later.”

Akira gulped before continuing. He recounted everything that had happened the previous night--from the assault, to letting Mishima go (Niijima had no words to express how stupid that was), to finding the duplicate camera footage. The detective took diligent notes, asking Akira to clarify a few things as she went. Akira gave her Mishima’s contact information, and even showed her the bruises on his neck--there was nothing visible, but he winced whenever she touched them. When Akira was finished testifying, Niijima replaced the recorder and notepad in her purse. She glanced at Goro.

“We’re going to need those tapes,” she said. “I’ll need someone to bring Mishima in for questioning, too…”

“What about Akira?” asked Goro.

“I’ll believe him for now,” said Niijima, “Let’s see what this Mishima has to say.”

“Thank you, Niijima-san,” said Akira.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook for this, Kurusu,” Niijima said sharply. “Letting a would-be thief walk out still makes you an accessory to a crime, even if the crime wasn’t actually completed.”

The color drained from Akira’s face.

“Considering you turned around and reported the crime soon after, we might not end up filing charges,” Niijima continued. “But as things stand, you likely won’t get out of this one unscathed.”

Niijima opened the door, and the two of them followed her out. The boys shared a worried glance--though Goro's expression was more of disappointment than anything. _Well, what did you expect?_   _A pat on the back?_ Akira didn't want to think about what sorts of repercussions awaited him, especially if word spread to his boss at the museum... which it no doubt would.

Niijima's office bordered rows of cubicles where other officers and detectives worked diligently on their cases. Niijima walked up to a cubicle at the end of a row, where a brown-haired young woman in uniform was tapping away at a laptop. Niijima gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Makoto, I have a job for you, if you have a minute.”

“Sure.” Makoto shut the laptop with a snap and stood up. “What do you need, sis--er, detective?”

“I need you to find one Yuuki Mishima and bring him in for questioning,” said Niijima, handing Makoto a folder. “I have his contact information in this file. Take any officers on call with you.”

“Understood.” Makoto turned to leave, but caught sight of Akira and the others as she did so. She paused. “Oh… Kurusu-kun? Is that you?”

“The one and only,” Akira smiled, “Long time no see, Makoto.”

“It’s Niijima, if you would,” said Makoto dryly. “I’m on the job.”

She’d had that same sharp professionalism when they were students; it was no wonder she and Detective Niijima were related.

“Sorry… didn’t want to get you mixed up with your sister,” said Akira, “Have you met my husband?”

“I wasn’t aware you were married,” said Makoto pointedly.

“Well, we haven’t had a real ceremony yet. You’ll get an invite when we do.”

“Goro Akechi,” said Goro, hoping to dispel some of the tension. He held out his hand to her. “It’s nice to meet you, Niijima-san.”

“So you’re Goro Akechi,” said Makoto. She shook his hand firmly, “I’ve heard a lot about you from my sister.”

“All good things, I hope?” Goro smiled.

“Sae told me about your work on the Shinagawa murders,” said Makoto, nodding to him. “I’m impressed that you were able to catch the killer so fast.”

“Telling your sister classified information, Detective Niijima?” said Goro, half-jokingly.

“Declassified since a year ago,” Niijima clarified. “Makoto, you’ve got an arrest to make.”

“Right, sorry. I’ll catch you all later.”

Makoto hurried out of the room, grabbing her purse as she went. Goro turned back to the the detective.

“May we return home, or should we stick around for a bit?”

“It’s best you stay here, or at least nearby,” said Niijima. “Akira may need to provide additional testimony.”

“Understood,” said Goro, “Akira, would you like to get lunch? There’s a bento place nearby that does good takeout.”

“Fine by me.”

“I have my cell if you need me,” Goro said to Niijima as he took his fiance’s hand, “We’ll be back in a bit.”

Niijima watched as the two of them left, contemplating her next move. She'd need to swing by the museum to get copies of those security tapes, but that could wait for now. If Akira’s tip checked out, they could be looking at a clean arrest--and she’d have Goro's quick thinking to thank for it.

“Just like old times,” she said quietly. “Almost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sry this chapter was so short; i had a bunch of short scenes in a row that introduce a lot of new action/information and it's been hard deciding how best to group them into chapters >.<
> 
> Originally Niijima's questioning was a fully written out conversation, but I realized it repeated information we've heard two or three times now, so I decided not to bother (losing a couple of jokes in the process... rip)


	7. The Suspect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Detective Niijima has one Yuuki Mishima brought in for questioning, but something isn't adding up....

Yuuki Mishima seemed confused at first, when police showed up at his parents’ house with a warrant for his arrest, but he did not try to resist. He came along easily, and was silent for the entirety of the drive down to the station. Niijima met him in the interrogation room. He seemed much meeker than she’d expected, sitting quietly and looking at his hands in his lap. His wrists weren’t bound. Niijima kept her guard up, though: she’d met plenty of soft-spoken criminals in her time at the precinct.

“Yuuki Mishima?” she asked. He looked up at her, and for a moment she had a hard time believing he was her sister’s age. His face seemed almost young enough to be in high school.

“That’s me,” he said.

“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked.

“They said something about an attempted burglary.”

“That’s correct,” said Niijima. “Just so you know, you don’t have to say anything to me before speaking to an attorney, and I can’t force you to give self-incriminating testimony.”

“Okay,” said Mishima.

“I’d like to ask you about last night,” said Niijima, “Do you remember what you were doing at around three in the morning?”

“Sleeping,” said Mishima simply.

“Is there anyone who can verify this?”

“My parents, maybe.” He shifted his weight a little, as if he could tell his alibi sounded flimsy.

“Alright,” said Niijima, “Mishima-kun, you’re here today because we have a witness who claims he saw you at the Bridgestone Museum at three in the morning last night.”

“I don’t even know where that is,” said Mishima.

“Our witness would disagree.”

“And anyway, shouldn’t you ask your _witness_ what he was doing at the museum in the middle of the night?”

“He’s a security guard at the museum.”

“Oh…” Mishima flushed. “S-sorry, I’m kinda nervous…”

“It’s alright,” said Niijima.

“Anyway, I definitely wasn’t at the museum,” said Mishima. “I was home. Sleeping.”

“You might be in some hot water if we can’t confirm your alibi, Mishima-kun.”

“Alright,” said Mishima, taking on a defensive tone. “Is the witness all you have? What about evidence?”

“Huh?” Niijima was slightly taken aback.

“I have the right to see any evidence implicating me, don’t I?” said Mishima. “Can you prove that it was me?”

And Niijima froze. Because they couldn’t prove it--there was nothing besides Akira’s testimony. An official inquiry had revealed that the security cameras had been compromised, and last night’s recording was a duplicate. There was evidence that they’d been tampered with remotely. Officers were sweeping the building to find evidence of a break-in, but there likely wouldn’t be anything that would point to Mishima specifically.

Either they had the wrong man, or she’d vastly underestimated her opponent’s ability. One eyewitness was usually enough to obtain a conviction--the question was whether Akira’s testimony would be believed. Niijima wanted to believe she had Arsene in front of her, that Akira was telling the truth. But she could think of several reasons why a former thief would try to frame someone else.

Niijima quietly got to her feet.

“I’ll go see what I can find,” she said. “Stay put.”

She left the room, trying hard not to close the door too strongly behind her.

* * *

Mishima’s parents verified that they’d seen him go to bed the night before. He was released by early evening, after the evidence against him was deemed insufficient. The police concluded that Akira must have mistaken him for someone else.

Akira and Goro took the train back in silence, barely speaking a word to each other until they’d made it to their apartment. Akira’s anxiety held his tongue, and he wasn’t sure if Goro’s silence was from anger or from deep contemplation. He suspected the former, but hoped for the latter.

The silence only broke once the apartment door had shut behind them.

“For the record,” said Goro as he removed his shoes, “I believe you.”

“Thanks,” said Akira, “At least someone does…”

His words hung in the air for a bit. Goro started toward the bedroom, but paused in the middle of the hallway, deep in thought.

“Babe?” Akira offered.

“Ah, just thinking,” said Goro, “Call it a detective’s intuition, but I feel certain it was really Mishima last night.”

“You and me both, babe.”

“Considering he pressed for evidence, he must have known we couldn’t prove anything,” he said. “If only we had some kind of proof. Something indisputable…”

“I tried texting him last night after the incident, but it didn’t help,” said Akira. “He pretended not to have been there.”

“Wait, what?”

“Should I have said something…?”

“Maybe,” Goro frowned, “Can I see what he said?”

“Sure.” Akira handed him his phone. “Oh, uh, the stuff about me helping him out--that was a bluff.”

“ _That’s_ encouraging.”

Goro took the phone, scrolling through the thread of emails. When he reached the final message, he let out a groan.

“What?” said Akira.

“You _idiot,”_ Goro put a palm to his forehead. “Why did you _tell him_ we have no evidence?”

“Wh--oh….” Akira bit his lip. “That’s. Hm. Didn’t think about that…”

“ _Obviously_ not,” said Goro, “That’s why he asked Niijima for evidence. He knew we couldn’t prove it was him--that his little camera trick had worked.”

Akira gulped.

“... I fucked up.”

“Yes, Akira. Yes you did.” Goro took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. He handed back Akira’s phone. “You weren’t trained for this kind of thing, you have no experience, and you were probably panicking. I understand why you made a mistake like this. But you of all people should know there’s no such thing as an honest thief.”

“Haha, yeah…. Yeah.” Akira grimaced.

“... Listen,” said Goro, “Come what may, I’m on your side. Just… leave the detective work to me, alright?”

Akira nodded.

“So… what now?”

“The police are back to having no suspects,” said Goro, “You have an alibi for the card, and you have a coworker who can confirm your location for 90% of your shift. As for the last 10%... well, in the end, nothing was taken. You would have had the perfect opportunity to make off with the vases, but nothing happened. And even if there’s evidence of a break-in, if they can’t prove it was Mishima, they can’t prove it was you, either.”

“You’ve, uh,” said Akira, “You’ve really thought all this out, huh…?”

“W-well,” Goro flushed a little, “Old habits die hard, I suppose.”

“Do you…” Akira paused. “Do you think you’ll join up with the force again? You know, to catch the new Arsene.”

“Frankly, I’d be surprised if they wanted me back,” said Goro wryly, “After what happened in France, and the rumors… besides, if you’re no longer a suspect, I see no reason to get involved. My sole priority is keeping you safe.”

“But what if he tries again, and I don’t have a good alibi…?”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Goro smiled at him, weakly--it wasn’t quite the same as his practiced smile. His fatigue showed a little at the corners. Akira didn’t have this thought often anymore, but in moments like these--when Goro had to scramble to cover for his slip-ups, yet somehow managed to take it all in stride--he felt like he truly didn’t deserve his fiance.

“Yeah…” Akira said at length, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. “I guess we’ll see… Goro?”

“Hm?”

“... thank you… and, I’m sorry. I’ve been causing you one headache after another, huh.”

Goro sighed.

“To be honest, yes. But I accept your apology.”

“I’ll find some way to make it up to you,” said Akira, “Maybe a nice dinner out, and then once we’re home, I’ll throw together something spicy for the second course…?”

“Not a bad plan,” said Goro, smiling in spite of himself. “But let’s save it for another time. You can start by cooking me dinner tonight.”

“Okay,” said Akira, “And after that…?”

“We’ll see,” said Goro. “I don’t want you thinking that you can just fuck your way out of every mistake.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try,” said Akira, conceding with a wink. “What would you like for dinner tonight, honey?”

“Curry. And you’d better put your heart into it.”

“Mm-hm. I’ll make it with lots of love.”

Akira gave his fiance a quick peck on the cheek before heading into the kitchen, something like a spring in his step. He hummed a little as he put on his apron, the stormy mood from earlier all but gone now.

_This is just the beginning, of course. You’ve done so much for me until now… I’ll work harder at being the kind of person who doesn’t cause you grief anymore._

_Until then, the least I can do is spoil you rotten._


	8. Niijima's Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niijima asks Goro out to coffee. Ostensibly it's just to catch up, but Goro suspects she may have something else in mind...

Goro was surprised to see an email from Niijima a few days later.

_ Akechi-kun, sorry for the sudden message out of the blue. I’d like to meet with you over coffee, if that’s alright. There are some things I’d like to discuss. Don’t worry--you and your husband aren’t in any trouble. Let me know a time that works for you. _

They made a time to meet after Goro’s classes were over for the day. He met Niijima at Leblanc; she’d never been, but Goro knew she had a soft spot for French-style cafes and had the feeling she would like it. They both ordered the house blend and sat down at a booth to wait while the coffee brewed.

“There you go.” The shop’s owner brought their coffee to them personally. “Long time no see, Akechi-kun.”

“Same to you, Sakura-san,” said Goro, smiling.

“I told you, just ‘Boss’ is fine,” said Sojiro, a glimmer in his eye. “How’s Akira doing?” 

“He’s…” Goro wasn’t sure whether he should tell Sojiro the truth. “He’s holding up, I’d say. Oh--this is a former coworker of mine, Sae Niijima.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Niijima.

“Sojiro Sakura,” said Sojiro, bowing slightly, “Or ‘Boss’, if you’d like. Akechi-kun’s boyfriend used to work here, so he’s something of a regular.”

“I see,” said Niijima. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem.” Sojiro gestured to the empty shop before returning his gaze to her, smirking. “I’m at your service if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Sakura-san.”

As Sojiro made his way back behind the counter, Goro returned his attention to his coffee. He and Niijima sipped their drinks; Goro couldn’t help smiling to himself as he noticed the detective’s face light up.

“This is really good…” she remarked. “Leblanc, right? I’ll have to remember this place.”

“I’m glad,” said Goro. “Anyway, about the things you needed to discuss…?”

“Right.” Niijima cleared her throat a bit. “First, I’d like to start with an apology.”

“For…?”

“For all the things you and your husband have been through these last few weeks.”

“You had good reason to suspect him,” said Goro, attempting to wave her off. “I would likely have done the same, had I been in your position…”

“Still,” said Niijima, “We caused you both a lot of undue stress, and I’d like to apologize for what we’ve put you through.”

“... I appreciate that, thank you.” Goro took another sip of coffee. “So I’ll take that to mean the police no longer believe Akira is a suspect?”

“That’s correct,” said Niijima. “They also decided not to file charges against Mr. Kurusu for letting the perpetrator escape--considering he prevented the crime from actually being completed, and reported it soon after.”

“That’s a relief, at least,” said Goro. “He was let go from his position at the museum the other day, and having a court case on top of that would be a bit much…”

“I see,” said Niijima. “It makes sense, considering, but that’s still unfortunate.”

“It is…” Goro looked down at his coffee, swirling it a little in the mug. “He really liked working there. I hope he’ll be able to find another museum job in the future…”

Niijima nodded to him, taking another sip from her mug. Goro eyed her quietly.

“I suspect there’s more,” he said, “If you’re treating me to coffee out of the blue.”

“Sharp as always, Akechi-kun,” Niijima couldn’t help smiling. “The truth is, I don’t think this business with Arsene is over. I have a strong feeling that he’ll strike again, and successfully next time. If this is anything like the first Arsene case, we’re going to need our best and brightest to bring him down. So… this may not be appropriate for me to ask, but I’d like to offer you a place on the investigation team.”

Goro’s mouth fell open slightly, but he was able to recover with a feigned laugh.

“You’re joking.”

“I’m quite serious.”

“And may I ask  _ why _ you’d like me to return, when I was hardly of any help in France?” said Goro, frowning. “Not to mention the rumors that I assisted Arsene’s escape… I can’t see what benefit I would bring to the table.”

“You weren’t ‘hardly of any help’.” Niijima fixed her sharp gaze on him. “Your original plan to capture Arsene came very close to succeeding. This time--without any previous emotional attachment to the perpetrator--I’m sure you’ll be able to bring Arsene to justice.”

Goro winced.

“Ah, yes, well…”

“You don’t have to give an answer now,” said Niijima, “I’m just letting you know that the offer is open.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and the offer extends to your husband as well.”

Goro nearly choked on his coffee.

“I--excuse me?!”

“I don’t see why not, if he’s out of a job.”

“No, it’s just--!” Goro could hardly mask his disbelief. “He has no experience or training in law enforcement, and--frankly--that’s exactly what got us into this mess. I don’t know if he’d be much of an asset.”

“That may be true,” said Niijima, “But it’s also true that no one is more familiar with Arsene’s methodology than the original Arsene himself. He may be able to provide valuable insight. It might be a long shot, but I think it’s worth a try. And besides… having your husband on the team will go a long way to allay suspicion. An easy alibi if he remains under police supervision the night of a heist.”

“True…” Goro frowned. “I thought you said he was no longer a suspect.”

“Not everyone in the precinct was completely convinced,” said Niijima. “Oh, and we’ll of course compensate you both for your work.”

_ She  _ **_had_ ** _ to play the money card, didn’t she… _

Goro didn’t like the thought of rejoining the force, and  _ especially _ not out of financial necessity. It was the same question of stability that had led him to become a detective in the first place; had shackled him throughout his teen years. This time, at least, he felt he had the power to make a choice. He could say no to her, and he and Akira could find jobs somewhere else. But would it really be a wise decision?

“I’ll have to run it by my partner,” said Goro finally. “He may have some qualms about this, and I don’t want to pressure him…”

“That’s fine.” Niijima smiled. “I’ll understand if either of you decline, but please let me know as soon as you can.”

“I’ll do my best,” said Goro. He drained the rest of his coffee before continuing. “Was there anything else?”

“No, I suppose that’s all,” said Niijima. “We haven’t had coffee like this in a while, though. I assume school is going well?”

“Yes, and I’ll be graduating in the spring…”

The two of them made light conversation for another hour or so, though the knot of anxiety never left Goro’s stomach. She was asking a lot of him: return to the department he’d left in disgrace, to solve heists he’d failed to solve and catch a criminal he’d failed to catch. He’d been hoping, perhaps naively, that his days as a vassal of the police were over. That he could focus on finding his own goals for the future…

He resolved to ask Akira about it, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d end up back on the force one way or another.

After taking the train one stop from Sangen-jaya, Goro parted ways with Niijima at Shibuya station. He stared out the window for the entire train ride back to the suburbs, lost in thought… 


	9. A lead...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro had been hoping he wouldn't have to set foot inside Shibuya police station again if he could help it, but he would have to forget that hope for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter references information that was introduced in Akira's half of the [preludes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653955/chapters/28839102%22) I posted a bit ago. I think it'll still make sense without it, but it might not hurt to have a little context!

A week later, Akira and Goro met Niijima at the Shibuya police station to finish filling out the last of their paperwork and get their ID badges.

Goro had been surprised, at first, when Akira answered Niijima’s proposal with a definite yes. He knew he shouldn’t have been that surprised--any reasonable man fresh out a job would leap at an opportunity for a new source of income--but considering Akira’s track record with police stations, he’d expected a little more hesitation. Akira, in fact, seemed more excited about the job than Goro was.

As they stepped into the elevator, Niijima behind them, Goro turned to his fiance.

“And you’re totally sure about this?” he asked.

“Of course,” said Akira. “You know me. If I wasn’t 100% sure about it, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“Might I ask why?”

Akira grinned back at him.

“Well, when else am I gonna have a chance to work with _you?”_ he said gleefully.

_I suppose I should have figured. It’s not the job itself he’s excited about._

“Of course, solving crimes and stuff sounds fun too,” Akira continued. “It’ll be just like on TV! A former thief reformed, now solving crimes alongside the love of his life--!”

“It will not be anything, at all, like it is on TV,” said Goro with a sigh.

“You’re no fun,” Akira pouted.

“If you two _children_ are done bickering,” said Niijima, “I’ll show you to the desk you’ll be using.”

The elevator doors opened, and the three of them stepped out. The room beyond was lined with cubicles, many piled high with paperwork and folders. Goro spotted Niijima’s sister working at the same desk from before. The older Niijima led them to a cubicle not far from hers. Compared to the cluttered desks to the left and right of it, this desk looked like an oasis of neatness.

“Akechi-kun, this will be your desk,” said Niijima. “We’ll have a nameplate set up by tomorrow. Kurusu, since you’re technically just a contract worker, you won’t be getting a desk of your own yet. Are you alright sharing with Akechi for the time being?”

“Fine by me,” said Akira coolly, putting an arm around his fiance. “We already share a lot of things, it turns out.”

Niijima rolled her eyes, and Goro wondered if he ought to start a tally of how many times Akira made her regret the decision to invite him along.

“Behave yourself,” she said sharply. “Don’t forget: I offered you this job, and I can just as easily revoke it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Akira released his fiance immediately.

“Now, here’s your paperwork.” Niijima handed them each a manila folder. “Bring these down to HR, and they’ll have you take a photo for your ID. You remember where the office is, right, Akechi-kun?”

“Unless it’s moved in the last few years.”

“No, same place.” Niijima smiled at them. “Welcome to the team, you two. I’m going to be your direct superior, so please come find me if you have any other questions.”

The two of them nodded before bowing to her. Niijima bowed back before leaving them to their paperwork. Akira pulled a chair over from an unoccupied desk, and the two of them set to work.

“This is it, I suppose,” said Goro. “Never thought I’d have to see this office again…”

“Are you…?” Akira looked at his partner seriously; his playful demeanor gone now. “I know you were worried about me, but what about you? Are you going to be alright with this? Getting forced into detective work again…”

“I’ll be fine,” said Goro. “This time, I wasn’t forced. This was a decision I made myself--the decision to keep protecting you, no matter what it takes.”

“Still…” Akira frowned.

“This time is different,” said Goro. “Before, police work was all I had. This time, I have you. So… please don’t worry about whether I can handle it.”

Akira couldn’t help smiling.

“Aw, _babe_ …!”

“And please don’t call me ‘babe’ at work,” said Goro curtly. “In any case… Honestly, I’m more concerned about whether _you_ will be alright working on such thin ice. Niijima and the others will likely be breathing down your neck.”

“I told you, I’ll be fine,” said Akira quietly. “To tell the truth, I’d be lying if I said part of it wasn’t a desire to get back at Mishima for playing me that night.”

_“That’s_ a feeling I understand,” said Goro teasingly.

“Hey,” said Akira, but he smiled again. “I don’t really want to screw Morgana--I mean, my old accomplices, but… as long as this ‘Arsene’ is still at large, I can’t rest easy.”

“So you think Mishima is working with your old accomplices?” Goro asked.

“It’s possible…” said Akira. “It’s weird, though. If he’s working with the same people, it doesn’t make sense that they’d have him go after such an unremarkable target. But how else do you explain the cameras…?”

Suddenly, something occurred to him.

“Can you text Niijima real quick?”

“I can…” Goro got out his phone. “Why?”

“I think I know what’s going on here.”

* * *

The boys quickly learned that “the investigation team” for the Arsene case so far consisted of just four people: the two Niijima sisters, and themselves. The four of them sat around a table in one of the conference rooms, notebooks on hand, for an impromptu meeting.

“So,” said the older Niijima. “You said you’ve already come up with a lead?”

“Sort of,” said Akira. “Er… I’m off the hook for the original case, right? I can talk about it?”

“We can’t file charges against you anymore, so yes,” said Niijima. “What you tell us here about the previous case cannot be used against you.”

“Okay, good,” said Akira, “Here’s what I’m thinking. Before I got started in France, my patron had me do a sort of ‘trial run’ at a museum here in Japan, to make sure I could pull off an escape in a real heist.”

“Alright,” said Niijima. “Explain. What exactly did this person have you do?”

“I had to send a calling card, then sneak in and out of the museum on the specified date without being caught. It didn’t matter what I told them I was taking, because I wouldn’t actually be stealing anything. I just needed to demonstrate that I could get in and out without setting off an alarm. My patron offered to provide me the tools and do things like hack cameras; all I had to do was the infiltrating.”

“And I take it you succeeded?” said Makoto.

“Yeah, but that’s not important,” said Akira. “What’s important is, I was told that if I _was_ caught, I had to get myself out by any means necessary, short of lethal force.”

“Please get to the point, Kurusu,” said Niijima.

“I think our suspect might be working with my old patron,” said Akira, “The night of my escape from the Louvre, my patron told me that ‘Arsene’ was just a title--in other words, I probably wouldn't be the only one. It’s been five years, which would have been plenty of time to scout out and train a replacement. My training only took two years.”

“So, if I follow your thinking,” said Goro, “You think the incident at the Bridgestone was the new Arsene’s ‘trial run’?”

“Yeah,” said Akira. “It doesn’t make sense otherwise. He got in and out of the museum without taking anything, and even came up with an elaborate lie to get me to let him go--but he didn’t try to steal the vases a second time, so they must not have been that important to him.”

“I see,” said Goro, “This theory would explain the cameras, and the fact that he assaulted you with what could have been enough force to knock you out. He’s had at least some training.”

“There’s only one thing that still doesn’t add up,” said Akira, “I wanted to check if Mishima was really working with Morgana--my patron, so I told him to say hi for me. He didn’t recognize the name. Or at least, he said he didn’t…”

“So your patron’s name is ‘Morgana’,” said Niijima. “Is there any way for us to contact this person?”

“Morgana is a title, like Arsene was,” said Akira. “The one I worked with told me a lot of people go by that name. I don’t have an email address for the person who contacted me; it’s always ‘sender hidden’. I’ve been able to reply to them without any problems, though…”

“Alright,” Niijima jotted this down in her notes. “So, if your theory is correct, then that boy we brought in--Mishima--really was Arsene, even if we can’t prove it right now. He should be planning to leave Japan within the next few months, likely heading to France.”

“That’s a reasonable assumption,” said Akira.

“Looks like we have our work cut out for us this afternoon, then,” said Niijima. “Akechi, I’m putting you on plane tickets. If Mishima’s bought a plane ticket to _anywhere_ in the last six months, I want to know about it.”

“Can do.”

“Makoto, I want you to take a team and get Mishima back in here,” said Niijima. “Now that we have the name of an accomplice, we might be able to get him to cooperate. I’ll handle the interrogation.”

“Got it,” said Makoto.

“And Kurusu, that leaves you with Morgana,” said Niijima, “See if you can get ahold of him.”

“I’ll try.”

“We’ll meet back here at the end of the day to report on anything we find,” said Niijima. “Let’s move, everyone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to the people who called all of my foreshadowing up to this point: *eyes emoji* *100% emoji* *ok fingers emoji*


	10. Dead Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation isn't going as well as they'd hoped.

The sky outside was already dark by the time the group returned to the meeting room. Akira hadn’t had much luck with his assignment--and judging from the grim faces of his compatriots, neither had they.

“So,” said Niijima with a sigh. “What--if anything--do we have to report?”

“I suppose I’ll go first,” said Goro. “I ran a search on ticket sales for all major airlines in and out of Japan. A number of people named Yuuki Mishima have bought international tickets, but none of their passport information matches our suspect. There’s still a possibility that he bought tickets with a fake passport, but if that’s the case he could be flying under any name.”

“Morgana didn’t make me get a fake ID for my flight to France,” Akira chipped in. “Unless he’s gotten more cautious, I don’t think he’s making Mishima get one either.”

“Alright, so that’s a bust,” said Niijima. “We may have to ask the airports to keep an eye out for anyone matching his description. Next--Kurusu, you’re up.”

“Bad news here too, detective,” said Akira. “I replied to one of Morgana’s earlier emails, but I got a message back saying the address was defunct. I tried with every single email he’d ever sent me, and they all bounced.”

“Ugh…” Niijima frowned. “I suppose it makes sense he’d want to cover his tracks, with Arsene making the news again.” She turned to her sister. “Makoto, I already know how yours went, but let’s keep the guys in the loop.”

Makoto sighed. Akira and Goro leaned in curiously.

“I showed up to Mishima’s house with the arrest warrant, but his parents told me he’d moved out a few days ago,” said Makoto. “They didn’t know the address, so I tried searching city records--nothing. No addresses under that name, not even his parents’ house.”

“Possible he hasn’t registered the new address yet, but that’s still odd…” Goro commented, putting a hand to his chin.

“His parents told me he’d moved to be closer to work, and that he worked at the NHK station in Shibuya, so I thought I’d check there too,” said Makoto. “Here’s the weird part: NHK records show he hasn’t worked there since the end of August.”

“Do we have any information about his current employer?” asked Niijima.

“Not that I can find,” said Makoto. “It’s possible he doesn’t officially have one…”

“No job, no house…” Niijima frowned. “Sounds like someone who might soon be relocating.” 

“So what do we do now…?” said Akira.

“There isn’t a lot we  _ can _ do,” said Niijima, “Not until he makes a move. For now… Akechi, let’s put a red flag on his passport. If he even  _ tries _ to buy a plane ticket out of the country, we nail him.”

“Got it, though that won’t stop him if he has a fake ID...”

“Well, that’s all I’ve got,” Niijima sighed. The fatigue was starting to show in her voice. “We may just have to wait until another calling card turns up.”

“There has to be  _ something _ else we can do,” said Makoto. “I don’t like the thought of just sitting around doing nothing.”

“Well?” said Niijima, directing her attention to Goro. “Akechi-kun, any other suggestions?”

Goro sat there for a little while, considering his options; it took him a few minutes to respond. Finally he looked back up at Niijima with an apologetic smile.

“Well, I’ll admit I’m a bit rusty at this,” he said. “Aside from flagging his passport and telling airport staff to keep an eye out for him, I’m not sure there’s anything else we can do at this point. Perhaps we ought to put out a warning to local ward offices as well, just in case he does end up registering for an apartment somewhere. We still don’t know for certain if he’s planning to leave the country.”

“That’s not a bad plan,” said Niijima. “I’ll throw that together this evening.”

She checked her watch, frowning.

“It’s getting late,” she said. “Why don’t we call it there for today?

Akira nodded gratefully, yawning. He’d had decidedly less on his plate than his coworkers, but it was a lot more than he’d been expecting for his first day. He traded a sleepy glance with Goro.

“If there’s nothing to be done for now, we might as well return home,” said Goro.

“Alright,” said Niijima. “Thanks for your hard work today, everyone--even if it ultimately didn’t produce useful results. Sometimes detective work is just like that.”

“We’ll be going on ahead,” said Goro politely, standing up. Akira joined him, and the two of them bowed.

“I’ll give you a call when we need you,” said Niijima, “It could be a while before we get any hits, though.”

“Understood. We’ll see you then, Niijima.” 

Goro and Akira left together, and Akira took his fiance’s hand once they’d left the building. He was glad to finally head home for the day, ready to put Mishima and Arsene out of mind--but he could tell his partner was still lost in thought, running through possible leads and outcomes. Akira wondered if Goro would ever truly be able to turn that part of himself off.

_ He must be thinking himself in circles trying to get to the bottom of this. The last few weeks it’s just been one thing after another--he’s going to burn out if he keeps going like this. _

_ Hm. I bet there’s something I can do to help him relax... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter was so short haha.... i'll have something much longer for you tomorrow..... >u>


	11. A Debt Paid in Full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro had intended to work on homework tonight to get his mind off things--but it seems his fiance has other ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rating Note: this chapter is sexually explicit_
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> Alright took us a little longer than usual to get to the sex, BUT, here we are. enjoy. a hanukkah gift from me to you

They had a late dinner at the restaurant below their apartment before heading upstairs. Goro had some homework he’d been hoping to get started on, but Akira gently pulled him away from it. Normally Goro would have raised more of an objection, but tonight, he let Akira have his way. His homework wasn’t due for another week, anyway.

“Feeling friendly?” asked Goro as Akira led him, hand in hand, to the bedroom.

“You could say that,” said Akira, smiling. “You know, I still owe you that ‘I’m home’ sex.”

“Is _that_ what this is about?” said Goro teasingly. “I’m surprised you even have the energy for sex, after today.”

“Well, I had less work than you,” Akira answered without missing a beat. “Which is why tonight, I’m here to service you any way you’d like.”

Goro couldn’t help feeling a little rush of excitement at those words, tired as he was.

“Service me, huh…?”

“Mm-hm,” said Akira. They were at the bedroom now, and Akira led his fiance to the bed. “Anything you want. No request is too grand.”

“Well…” Goro began. He always found it hard to think of these things on the spot. “Why don’t we start with a kiss, and go from there…?”

Akira smirked.

“I like the way you think.”

Akira reached up to Goro’s nape and gently brought him in for a kiss. Goro closed his eyes, letting the feeling linger for a little while. When they’d first started dating, each kiss felt like a jolt of lightning--the novelty of letting another’s lips touch his was enough to drown out all else. But now, after five or six years together, the novelty had worn off somewhat. Familiarity was left in its place: a distinct sense of grounding that only Akira’s touch could provide. Kissing him felt like coming home.

Akira drew back, briefly--just long enough to take a seat on the bed. Goro was quick to join him, eagerly meeting his lips. He wouldn’t have minded sitting there all night, locked in a slow, tender kiss, all his worries dissolving away. Just as he was starting to hope for that outcome, Akira pulled back again, bringing his hands up to Goro’s face.

“How’s that?” Akira whispered.

“I hope that’s not all you had in mind,” Goro quipped, smiling.

“Ooh, are you a little needy tonight, babe…?”

“Maybe a little more than I thought…” Goro curled his fingers into his partner’s hair. “I think I’m going to need a few more kisses.”

“Done,” said Akira, gleefully; he leaned forward and kissed Goro a little more strongly this time. Goro answered him, slipping his tongue between his partner’s lips.

_I needed this…_

He left the words unsaid in the space between each kiss.

After a few minutes Goro scooted back a little on the bed, inviting Akira to join him with his eyes only. Akira took the bait, eager to continue where they’d left off--and Goro wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into another kiss. Their momentum carried them backwards into the pillows, and Akira let out a startled giggle.

“Goro--!”

Goro loosened his grip a little so that Akira could get his balance. For a little while the two of them gazed at each other quietly--as if, taking notice of each other’s beauty, they’d forgotten everything else they were doing.

_Good lord, he’s handsome._

Even after five years together, and almost two of waking up next to that face every morning, Goro was still struck by how _attractive_ his fiance was. Just when he thought he’d grown accustomed to the routines of living together--the daily kisses, no longer hampered by butterflies--there were still moments when the look in his fiance’s eyes took his breath away.

_How did I get so lucky…?_

“Well?” said Akira. “Had any ideas for what you want me to do?”

Goro shook his head, smiling--he’d been too lost in the moment to give it any thought.

“Still drawing a blank, unfortunately.”

“Hmm,” said Akira, “Well, let’s see…”

He bent down, bringing their lips together briefly.

“I could give a few suggestions, if you’d like.”

“Let’s hear them.”

Akira smiled before bending down again, brushing his lips along Goro’s jawline.

“I could tie you to this bed…”

“I think I’m in the mood for something gentler,” Goro replied.

“Oh? In that case…”

Akira’s lips migrated further, tugging a little at Goro’s neck.

“How about I slowly peel these clothes off you, then cover you in kisses?”

“Mm, that’s a little more like it.”

Akira pulled at his partner’s shirt collar so that he could plant another kiss beneath it.

“And once I’m done marking you up, I’ll make sweet, gentle love to you for the rest of the night.”

Goro couldn’t help shivering; he liked the sound of that. Akira noticed his partner’s anticipation and smirked.

“I had the feeling you’d be into that.”

Akira started in on the buttons of Goro’s shirt, kissing each newly exposed inch of skin as he went, then sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Before too long, Goro had a neat little line of red marks from his collarbone to his navel.

“How’s that?” Akira asked, working free the button on his partner’s pants.

“Good,” said Goro, “It’s a shame those marks won’t last very long.”

“Mm, then I’ll give you some that will.”

By now Akira had finished undoing Goro’s fly; he stripped his fiance’s pants off him with a couple of hard tugs. In the next moment he was between Goro’s legs, laying gentle kisses along the inside of his thighs.

“Ah--! Akira--!”

“Hm? How about this?”

Akira took hold of a patch of skin at the edge of Goro’s briefs and sucked at it--Goro let out a yelp before throwing his hands over his mouth.

“No good?” Akira released him immediately.

“No, no, that was fine--!” Goro took a moment to steady his breathing. “Just unexpected…”

“Alright, then I’ll warn you this time.” Smirking, Akira turned his attention back to Goro’s legs. He gently slid the briefs out of the way with his thumb. “I’m about to leave a big, red mark somewhere only _you_ can see it.”

Goro gasped as Akira bent down again, planting an aggressive kiss at the place where his thigh joined his hip. Sensation pulsed through him, and he squirmed a little in Akira’s grip.

“Ah--!”

“Mm,” Akira released him with a _smack_ , “That was a good sound. I could listen to you all night…”

Recovering slightly from the shock, Goro glanced downward. Akira’s lips had left a sizable mark--though, to his disappointment, it disappeared beneath his underwear as Akira let the fabric fall back into place.

“Should I get these out of the way?” Akira asked. Goro nodded to him eagerly. “Alright, then I’ll ask you to do the same for me…”

Goro lifted his hips slightly, and Akira pulled his underwear off with ease. Goro sat up so he could help Akira with his clothes, abandoning his own shirt on the bed. Akira interrupted him with a kiss.

“You’re not making this easy,” said Goro, finally pulling Akira’s shirt over his head.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Akira teased. They clumsily got his clothes off between stolen kisses, and Akira almost seemed to be turning it into a competition: could his lips hold Goro’s attention longer than the task at hand?

Eventually, Goro’s determination won out. Now just as naked as his partner, Akira lay down on the bed, eyeing Goro with a mix of admiration and desire.

“Does your back still hurt?” Goro asked.

Akira shook his head with a smile.

“The pain’s died down now,” he said. He reached out, grabbing Goro by the wrist, and slowly pulled him onto his chest. “This work for you?”

Goro took a minute to get comfortable. With the warmth of Akira’s skin on his, for a brief moment he felt more content than aroused--but the slight pulse of Akira’s cock beneath him snapped him back into focus.

“Yeah…” he answered finally. “This is nice…”

“Good.” Akira reached around to the back of Goro’s neck and brought their lips together. Akira’s tongue found its way to Goro’s mouth, and he was all too eager to meet it with his own. They traded a few sloppy kisses this way, Akira playing absentmindedly with Goro’s hair.

_God, this is…_

Akira’s hands traveled down to Goro’s back and gave him a gentle rub.

“Ohhh….” Goro released his partner’s lips, a moan rising in his throat.

“Feels good?” Akira asked. He worked his hands in circles, massaging Goro’s back in a way that seemed more caring than arousing. Goro, for his part, felt more relaxed than he had in a long while.

“Yeah… it does….” Goro let the words trail languidly from his mouth as he rested his head on Akira’s shoulder. “More, please…”

“Heh,” Akira laughed a little. “Needed a good back rub, babe?”

“God… yeah…”

The stress of the last few weeks melted away at Akira’s fingertips. Goro sank into his embrace, sighing as his partner worked out the tension in his muscles. Whether the investigation would yield results, whether his fiance would come under scrutiny again--none of that mattered. For tonight, just for tonight, he could leave those thoughts aside. He wanted to lose himself in Akira’s touch…

… and he nearly did, were it not for a hand sneaking down to his nipple.

“Ack--Hey--!”

Goro jumped as Akira gave his nipple a playful tease.

“Sorry,” he said, grinning. “Got a little handsy.”

“Clearly!”

“I just can’t help it, when you’re this naked and this close to me…!”

Before Goro could think of anything further to say in protest, Akira gave his nipple a little flick. Goro whimpered slightly, biting his lip.

“Oooh, I can feel you down there,” said Akira, voice low. “Getting a little excited, babe?”

“N-no shit! When you play dirty like that--!”

“Oh, you think _that’s_ dirty? Just you wait…!”

Akira’s free hand started at Goro’s shoulders, rubbing familiar circles into his skin--but this time, it was clear Akira had other plans. He made his way slowly down Goro’s back, stopping only to give his ass a playful squeeze.

“Akira--!”

Akira didn’t stop there; his fingers wandered between the cheeks to give Goro a different kind of massage. Goro jumped at his touch at first, but slowly relaxed as Akira worked at him….

“Ohhhh,” Goro couldn’t help moaning in spite of himself.

“Good?”

“Y… yeah….”

“Good,” said Akira. “Now, give me just a minute…”

He withdrew his hand, much to Goro’s disappointment. Akira reached over to the nightstand, where they kept a bottle of lube handy for situations such as this. He lubed up his fingers before setting back to work, drawing lazy circles around the rim. Goro hummed a little into Akira’s shoulder, leaning into his partner’s gentle rhythm…

“I’m gonna slip it in now,” said Akira quietly, “Are you ready?”

Goro nodded, giving his fiance a squeeze. Even so, he couldn’t help jumping a little as Akira’s finger worked its way inside.

“Oh…!!”

“Mm, how’s this?” Akira murmured, moving his finger back and forth _just_ slightly, “You like it like this, don’t you? Nice and gentle…”

Goro nodded, more vigorously this time; his hips were quick to fall into step with Akira’s movement.

“You like it when I just _unravel_ you like this.”

“Unravel” was an apt word; the more Akira pushed into him, the more Goro felt his strength draining away. His limbs felt heavy, his mind focused singularly on how _good_ he felt, and how much more he wanted. He was completely, utterly at Akira’s mercy--and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Akira…!”

Lost in pleasure, Goro found himself struggling to care about whether anyone could hear him.

“Hm?” Akira paused, and Goro had half a mind to start begging him for it right there. “What’s up, beautiful?”

“More… please…!”

“More?” said Akira--but even as he said it, he drove his finger in deeper. Goro bucked into it, willing Akira to keep going…!

“Hm? Have I got you a little worked up?”

“Just a little--?!” Goro almost shouted his response, “Akira, I’m…!”

He was very quickly losing the ability to form words; he couldn’t quite articulate how he felt or what he wanted. Luckily, it wasn’t hard for his partner to guess.

“I know,” said Akira. “I can feel your cock next to mine, Goro. I know just how badly you want it.”

“ _God_ …”

“But even so…” Akira trailed off, laying a second finger _just_ at the edge, “I want to hear you say it. Won’t you sing for me a little?”

Goro breathed a slightly disappointed huff, still trying to get his brain back under control. It was a while before he could give a coherent answer.

“I want you…” he managed, finally.

“You want me to _what_ ,” said Akira playfully, teasing the rim a little.

“I just…” Goro faltered. “I want _you_ , tonight… just you… ”

“Ah.” Akira hesitated a little--Goro could tell, because his fingers stopped moving. He seemed to recover quickly, though. “Aw, _babe_ … I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Goro nodded, burying his face into his partner’s neck.

“And I’m going to fuck you until you come all over this bed.”

Goro gasped as a second finger joined the first, filling whatever extra space he had left. Akira pushed into him gently, using only the muscles in his fingers--all the while, his free hand returned to teasing Goro’s nipple. Goro bit his lip at first, but it was only a matter of time before his helpless voice spilled out.

“Akira…! _Oh--!”_

“Ooh, that’s good,” Akira purred. “You know I love hearing you sing like this.”

“Mm--!” Almost embarrassed, Goro clamped his lips shut. Akira gave him a meaning thrust, and his mouth fell open again.

“Should I go a little faster?”

“Y-yes please…!” Goro’s words slurred slightly as he spoke.

“Ah, you’re just so cute…!”

Akira began to thrust a bit more forcefully this time, and Goro was quick to match him. The extra movement put just a little more pressure on his cock…!

“You’re really going at it, babe,” said Akira, “Does this feel good?”

“I--god, yes--!”

“Alright. Should I switch to something a little bigger?”

Truth be told, Goro was satisfied as he was--even with just his partner’s fingers, he thought he was about to lose his mind.

“No, this is fine, just…! Keep going…!”

“I won’t stop, then.” Akira grinned. “Not until you come.”

“God, I’m so _close…!”_

“That’s what I like to hear,” said Akira. He kept pushing, his rhythm even. “God, Goro… you’re so beautiful.”

“Oh…!!”

“You’re cute, beautiful, _sexy_ ,” Akira continued, voice low. “There are so many sides to you, and I love them all.”

Goro’s breath caught in his throat. Even after five years, he was still so weak to Akira’s praise…!

“To think, I get to spend the rest of my life with someone this amazing…”

“Akira--!”

Akira curled forward a little, laying a kiss on his partner’s neck.

“Lucky me!”

That was what did it. With a hard shudder Goro finally came, whimpering, between them.

For a little while, the two lay still--Goro slowly coming down from his euphoria, his ragged breathing filling the silence, and Akira content simply to hold him. As the glow died down a little, Goro became increasingly aware of the mess he’d made. He slowly peeled himself upward to assess the damage, cum dripping from his stomach.

“Ah…” he said. He’d come… a significant amount.

“Been a while, huh?” said Akira.

“Y…. yeah….” Goro flushed. “Sorry…”

“What’re you apologizing for?” Akira replied with a sly smile. “You had a good time, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then don’t apologize.” Akira winked at him. “You know I don’t mind getting a little messy for you. Here, why don’t I get my fingers out…”

“Oh, right--!”

Goro jumped a little as Akira’s fingers slid back out of him, making a slight _squelch_ as they went.

“As a matter of fact,” Akira continued, “I _love_ it when you come all over me. Always have. I consider it compliments to the chef.”

Akira kissed his (clean) fingers for emphasis, and Goro couldn’t help giggling.

“Here,” Goro reached for the tissue box on the nightstand, “Let’s get you cleaned up…”

The two of them mopped themselves up, piling their tissues on the bed next to them--they could toss them later. For now, Goro was just about out of energy; he lay back down on Akira’s chest and let out a contented sigh. Akira wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his back gently.

“Are you still, um…” Goro murmured.

“Horny?” said Akira. “Oh _god_ yeah. Listening to you moan just now…”

“Would you like a hand with that?”

“If you’re up for it,” said Akira. “You don’t have to feel obligated to--!”

“But I _want_ to get you off,” Goro interjected.

“Oh,” said Akira simply. “Well, in that case, I won’t stop you. Go to town, babe.”

“You’ll have to give me a few minutes…” Goro smiled weakly. “I don’t think I can move yet…”

“Of course. Take as long as you need.” Akira smiled. “Making me wait for it… that’s kinda hot…!”

“I swear to god--!”

It was a little while before Goro regained the strength to move, and Akira watched him expectantly as he got into position. Goro bent over his partner’s cock, gently taking it in his hand. Akira twitched a little at his touch.

“Well… here goes.”

Before Akira could reply, Goro leaned down and sucked gently on the tip of his cock.

“Ohhhhghh…” A deep groan rose from Akira’s throat; he lifted his hand to his lips. “Babe…!”

There was a light _smack_ as Goro released him.

“It’s been a while for you, too?” Goro asked, smiling.

“ _Way_ too long…” Akira answered. “Oh, Goro, keep going…!”

Loath to keep him waiting, Goro returned to his task--he took Akira’s cock into his mouth as deep as it would go. Akira let out another throaty groan, laying his head back on the pillows.

“Ohh… that feels _incredible_ , Goro…” His partner’s name rolled off his tongue. “You’re so good at this…”

Goro released his cock with a sudden gasp.

“Akira--!”

“You like it when I praise you, don’t you.” Akira looked back at him, smile widening. “We’ve been together this long; don’t think I don’t know what sets you off.”

“W-well…” Goro looked away, flushing brightly.

“Lucky for you, I won’t ever get tired of telling you how amazing you are.”

“You little--!”

“Go on, keep going,” said Akira, laughing quietly. “Didn’t you say you were going to make me come?”

“Well _you’re_ distracting me--!”

“Mm, I think you’re skilled enough to focus even with me distracting you. You’ve been doing this a long time, after all--ah!”

Goro grasped his fiance’s cock and gave it a meaning squeeze; that shut him up quickly.

_Alright. Fine. You want me to prove my resolve? Just watch me._

He immediately set back to work, dragging his tongue along the shaft before stubbornly taking the whole thing into his mouth. Akira seemed to dissolve in his grip; his breathing grew more haggard, but he still managed to lavish praise on his fiance.

“There’s a good boy. Make me _beg_ for it.”

“Mm,” Goro hummed a little as he sucked, moving his head up and down just slightly--teasing Akira with just enough movement to make his body plead for more. His hips began to buck, supplementing their own rhythm when Goro’s wasn’t enough.

“You’re so good at this…” Akira repeated, “You always know exactly how to make me come.”

 _Of course I do_ , Goro thought to himself, moving his tongue in gentle circles around the tip. _What kind of fiance would I be if I didn’t?_

By this point, Akira could barely string words together--Goro could tell he was trying, and there was half a word here and there, but for the most part the words were lost between gasping breaths and wanting moans.

“Goro--!”

Goro knew better than to answer him; to release his fiance when he was getting so close to a climax...!

“Ohhh, Goro…! Don’t _stop_ \--!”

_I’m not stopping until you come--!_

“I’m so close, just--just finish me…!!”

Goro tucked a wayward lock of hair behind his ear and drew his partner’s cock in deeper, teetering dangerously close to the edge of what was comfortable for him. Seeing him struggle must have been enough; Akira finally came with a drawn-out moan, bucking weakly to work out every last drop. Goro drew back a little--it was too late to escape now; his mouth was already filled to the brim, and he was in imminent danger of choking if he didn’t do something. He released his partner’s cock, steeled his nerves, and swallowed. The familiar salty aftertaste lingered on his tongue.

It took Akira a bit to recover; at the very least, he was able to form words again after a few minutes.

“Good god…” he said finally. “Goro, are you…?”

Goro wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

“I’m alright,” he said. “What about you?”

“... spent…” Akira murmured. “That was incredible…” Seeming to realize something, he added, “Er, when I came, did you…?”

“You didn’t warn me, so…” Goro smiled awkwardly. “I swallowed it.”

“Oh, god, I’m sorry…” Akira flushed a little in embarrassment. “I mean, that’s kinda hot, not gonna lie, but still. I should’ve warned you…”

Goro shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s taken some getting used to, but… I don’t mind swallowing it for you if that’s what you like. It’s warm, and… it tastes like you.”

Akira let out a light sigh.

“Babe, that’s so _cute…!!”_

“Um, thanks…?”

“Come here, you.”

Akira held his arms open, and Goro climbed back into his embrace. For a while they simply lay there like that, skin on skin, taking in each other’s warmth. Goro was practically glowing with pride; for having pleased his fiance so thoroughly, and for bravely stepping out of his comfort zone for his partner’s sake. It wasn’t something he’d be willing to do often, but if Akira liked it…

“What’s on your mind, babe?”

“Oh, nothing… just thinking about you. Being able to connect with you like this…”

“What a cutie,” Akira smiled, laying a kiss on Goro’s forehead. “I’m thinking we could use a shower.”

“Oh, er… yeah…” Loath as he was to move, Goro remembered the mess he’d made earlier. A shower sounded like a good idea. “I’ll get the water going, if you’re still…”

“I think I can do it.”

Akira leaned in for a tender kiss, but Goro pulled away.

“Youuuu don’t want to kiss me right now….”

“Of course I do.”

“My mouth was just--?”

“I don’t care?”

“Well, _I_ do!”

“Alright, alright.” Akira moved to sit up, and Goro shifted off of him. “You wash your mouth while I get the water going. Then I’m going to pin you to the bathroom wall and snog you senseless.”

“Akira--!”

Akira laughed as he got out of bed--it took him a minute to steady himself on his still-shaky legs--before heading toward the bathroom. Goro watched him, eyes tracing the muscles of his back, the slight curve of his ass…

_Heh. I suppose you can consider your little debt paid in full._

“Coming, babe?”

The sound of running water reached his ears from the bathroom. Goro sighed contentedly before he got out of bed to join his fiance across the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first of (hopefully) 3 sex scenes i have planned for this, so *rubs hands together gleefully* look forward to those
> 
> Art to go with this scene can be found here, eheheh... [[link]](https://privatter.net/i/2332621) (now requires a twitter account to view, sorry! thanks for nothing, tumblr)   
> drawing butts is hard


	12. Another Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another calling card has been found--this one even more confusing than the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed yesterday's update, lmao... the reason was that I actually added this arc at the last minute, and needed to finish writing it! /bricked
> 
> It took a bit of restructuring (and more than a few headaches) to get it to work, but... I hope the extra effort will be worth it in the end >u> ~~plus I got to write some really good jokes, so that's always a plus~~

Within a week, Goro and Akira’s peaceful Saturday afternoon was disrupted by a phone call from Niijima--another calling card had been found. Before an hour was up, they arrived at the scene of the crime: a high-end flat in an expensive neighborhood not far from Shibuya. Niijima met them in the lobby and brought them upstairs.

The apartment in question was sleek and modern, with simple furnishings to contrast the various prints and paintings lining the walls. At first glance, it was the residence of a man who did not seem to spend much time there--but on second look, it seemed great care was put into the arrangement of the art. This was unmistakably the home of a collector. Makoto was already there, wiping the scene for prints. It was slow going, considering this was a residence; there were fingerprints on nearly everything of note.

“What’s the situation, Niijima-san?” asked Goro.

“Here,” Niijima took a ziploc bag off the coffee table and handed it to them. “This was discovered in his mailbox. There's something off about it, if you ask me.”

Inside was a card similar to the last: printed on the same red stationery, with cut-and-pasted kanji to form sentences. The two boys leaned in to read it.

_To Tomohisa Matsumaru: Utamaro originals belong in a museum, not rotting away with some private collector. I will make sure they get the respect they’re due. You have until the 11th to prepare for me. -A_

“There’s so much wrong here, I don’t even know where to start,” said Akira. “This doesn’t sound like something I--I mean, Arsene would say at all. Not to mention such a short time to prepare… the 11th is only in a little more than a week.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Goro. “Could he be trying to do another trial run, since the first one failed…?”

“I guess,” said Akira. “I only had to do the one, but then again, I never got caught.”

Goro looked back up to Niijima. “Tomohisa Matsumaru… Why does that name sound familiar?”

“Well it should, considering I’m one of Niijima-kun’s superiors.”

Goro and Akira jumped, snapping to attention. A balding, bespectacled older man had ambled in from the other room while they’d been examining the card. He gave them all a once-over, his frown seemingly etched into his face. Goro had seen this person, once or twice, during his time on the force. They had never spoken to each other.

“I take it this is your investigation team, Niijima-kun?”

“Yes, Mr. Director,” said Niijima. “My younger sister Makoto is the one wiping for prints. These two are Goro Akechi and Akira Kurusu--they joined the force specifically to help with this case.”

“I see.” The director’s gaze fell on Goro. “I’ve heard much about Akechi-kun in particular: the boy who brought down Masayoshi Shido.”

“I’m flattered, sir,” said Goro, smiling his usual practiced smile. He’d been hoping never to have to hear that name again. “But that case is far in the past. I’m only here as a consultant, I’m afraid.”

“Of course, of course,” said the director. He turned his attention to Akira before continuing. “And I’ve heard a thing or two about Kurusu-kun, as well. The cunning Thief of Hearts, I believe? But, ah--I’m sure that’s also a past you’re not keen to bring up in present company.”

Akira started, but Niijima put a hand on his shoulder.

“The director assisted me in my investigation after Akechi-kun resigned. That’s why he knows about you,” she said. “Don’t worry. The director is someone you can trust with that information.”

“... alright,” said Akira. He bowed cautiously. “Good to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” said the director. “Allow me to introduce myself: my name is Tomohisa Matsumaru--but you may simply call me Mr. Director. I know my name is a mouthful.”

“Good to meet you, at least formally.” Goro bowed to him as well. “So I take it this is your apartment, Mr. Director?”

“It is indeed,” said the director. “It’s a place I come to relax--the rare moment I get to relax, of course. My job is quite demanding, as I’m sure you can imagine…”

“Of course,” Goro echoed. “You’ve done a nice job arranging the place nonetheless.”

“Thank you.” The director smiled, which somehow made his face look even more wan. “I’m an antique lover at heart, and over the years I’ve amassed quite a collection… I just wish I had more time to enjoy it!”

“It’s an impressive collection,” said Akira, eyes roving the walls. The art alone was enough to pique his interest. “What sorts of antiques do you like to collect most, Mr. Director?”

“Mainly works by Chinese and Japanese artists,” said the director, “Incidentally, the pride of my collection are the Utamaro prints Arsene is after--originals from the 1790s, preserved in near-perfect condition.” He indicated to a pair of framed prints on the wall, slightly larger than a standard sheet of paper. Goro couldn’t tell their provenance by looking, but at the very least they looked their age. “I do also have a soft spot for western-style paintings, though originals of those are a bit far out of my budget, I’m afraid.”

“Makes sense,” Akira nodded knowingly. “I majored in western art history, so I’ve spent a fair amount of time with western paintings, myself.”

“Oh, is that so?” The director’s eyes seemed to glimmer, “Any favorites in particular?”

“They’re all wonderful, but Monet is a clear winner.”

“Ah, yes, Monet’s work is exemplary. When it comes to western-style painting, I’m a particular fan of Japanese masters such as Seiki Kuroda and Ichiryusai Madarame--his early years, of course, before that unfortunate scandal…”

The two of them wandered off together, chatting about art. Goro watched them, wondering at how easily Akira could slip into a casual conversation with someone several ranks his senior. It honestly made him a little jealous--whenever he spoke with people older than him, he had to work hard to maintain an amicable facade. His studies and his fiance had made casual conversations a little easier, but he still found it hard to find common ground with others about much other than food, or the weather.

“Seems like we have our work cut out for us,” said Niijima, pulling Goro from his thoughts. She held up a blueprint to show him. “It looks like the air vents in this place aren’t wide enough for a person to crawl through.”

“That’s a relief,” said Goro, “So, securing doors and windows, watching anyone who comes in or out, making sure cameras can’t be tampered with…”

“Oh, are we discussing security now?” the SIU director had made his way back to them, Akira with him. “Actually, Niijima-kun, I appreciate you coming out here--but would it be alright if I had the Special Investigations Unit handle the preparations this time?”

“You don’t have to go that far, sir…”

“Nonsense, Niijima-kun. It would be much easier to mobilize my team on short notice,” said the director. “Fewer bureaucratic hurdles to go through.”

“What exactly did you have in mind?” asked Niijima.

“Oh, you know. A couple of sensitive alarms, closed-circuit cameras, and a few boots on the ground ought to do the trick, if the vents are off the table.”

“Will that really be enough?” said Akira. “We could be dealing with an extremely skilled thief--and if he’s working with my former accomplices, he’ll have access to tools that can disable cameras and guards. He’ll probably be able to get in even with all this prep. The bigger problem is proving he was here.”

“Well, I don’t want to get _too_ far into specifics, but I do have a plan for that in mind,” the director continued. “For safety’s sake, I’d rather only a few people know about what exactly I’m planning.”

“You still suspect Akira, in other words,” said Goro pointedly.

“I just want to make sure all our bases are covered,” said the director. “Sorry, Kurusu-kun.”

“It’s fine,” said Akira. (It wasn’t--but he didn’t want to ruin what little goodwill the man had.)

The SIU director nodded to them, taking his phone from his pocket.

“I’m going to call my team--please feel free to stay until they arrive. I can put some tea on, if you’d like some…”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you,” said Niijima. “Makoto, any progress on prints?”

“Some,” Makoto frowned, holding up her samples. “Pretty sure these are all the director’s, though.”

“We’ll see about that back at the station,” said Niijima. “Boys, would you like a ride back?”

Akira and Goro nodded to her gratefully.

“We’ll check back in with you later,” said Niijima. “See you, Mr. Director.”

As they headed back downstairs, Goro found himself lost in thought again. Why would Arsene be targeting ukiyo-e prints? If he remembered correctly from his art history course, those prints had been made and sold as commodities. They weren't the kind of thing Arsene or his patron would be interested in. He supposed that if this was another trial run, the target wouldn't matter, and the motive stated on the calling card was ultimately meaningless. But the language of the card still bothered him. It was far more specific than the last card had been....

"Goro?"

"Hm?"

Goro looked up to see his fiance eyeing him, concern on his face.

"You alright?"

"Ah, just thinking. This case just gets stranger and stranger... I can't make sense of it."

Akira took his partner's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I believe in you, babe."

"I know…” Goro squeezed his hand in return. “You're helping too, don't forget. That’s why Niijima gave you the job in the first place."

“Yeah, yeah… but you’re doing all the real work.” Akira smirked. “I’m just here to toss off a witty comment now and then.”

Goro couldn’t help laughing at that.

“Pretty soon you’ll have to pull your own weight, you know.”

“I know, I know…”

Akira’s lighthearted comments improved his mood somewhat--but Goro ended up holding his partner’s hand the whole way back to Niijima's car anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized about halfway through that the SIU Director does not actually have a name in Persona 5, so I decided to give him one--and also give myself an excuse to only rarely use it. He's named for his seiyuu, [Tomohisa Asou](https://www.animenewsnetwork.com/encyclopedia/people.php?id=953). I combined both his stage name and his given name (Takuya Matsumaru) to get the mouthful of a name you see here.


	13. A Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The investigation team is given an unexpected night off...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was an absolute delight to write and made all of the other headaches from this arc so, so worth it, pls enjoy

The week passed more quickly than Goro would have liked. By the evening of the 11th, all of the preparations had been made--the Special Investigation Unit had left no stone unturned, and the apartment was under such tight surveillance that it would have been a miracle for Arsene to get in unnoticed.

Niijima offered the investigation team’s help in keeping watch, but the director shrugged her off, suggesting she take the team out for drinks that night instead.

“Go on, Niijima-kun,” he said. “You’ve all been working hard on this case--you deserve a night to take some time for yourselves. The receipt would make a good alibi for Mr. Kurusu, as well,” he added, making eye contact with Akira. “Leave this one to me. It’s my apartment, after all.”

“Sir, I understand you have a personal stake in this case, but…” Niijima protested, but paused halfway through. Finally she sighed. “Alright. I suppose there’s no convincing you otherwise, is there?”

The SIU director smiled.

“We’ll debrief in the morning,” he said, “And I’ll let you interrogate Arsene to your heart’s content.”

Niijima couldn’t help returning his smile.

“Alright, alright.” She turned back to her subordinates. “Makoto, Akechi, Kurusu--you coming for drinks?”

“You bet!” said Akira, grinning.

“Sure…” Goro wasn’t convinced this was a good idea, but he decided to trust the director’s judgement for now. After all, he knew his squad and his apartment better than anyone. And, it occurred to him darkly, the director could be trying to prevent Akira from messing with anything at the station.

Not long after, the four of them left the station and made their way to a nearby yakiniku restaurant. It was unusually empty for this hour, and they were able to be seated quickly. Niijima and Akira ordered wine immediately; Goro and Makoto chose to go for more modest sodas once they’d had time to consider the menu. The waiter brought by a bottle and a pair of glasses, and Akira poured his superior the first drink.

“You look tense, Niijima-san,” Akira commented.

“I can’t help it,” said Niijima as she took her glass of wine. “I know he said he’d take care of it, but it’s still my case. I don’t like the thought of not being there to keep tabs on it…”

“Well, have a drink. It’ll take the edge off.”

Niijima poured some wine for Akira, and he lifted his glass.

“Anyone wanna toast?”

“To what?” said Goro.

“I dunno.” He lowered his glass again sheepishly. “Drinking parties don’t feel right without a toast…”

“How about to a speedy end to this case?” said Makoto, holding up her soda.

“Don’t jinx it,” said Niijima, rubbing her temples.

“Well, how about something simpler, then?” said Akira. “To Mr. Director, who let us all have a night off!”

“Works for me,” said Goro. He held his glass next to Akira’s. “To good food and good company.”

“Alright, alright.” Niijima finally conceded; her glass joined the others. “To Mr. Director.”

“Cheers!”

* * *

The evening wore on. Customers came and left the restaurant, but the investigation team was still at their same table a few hours later. The wine bottle was nearly empty now, and long-drained soda cans were lined up next to it. Niijima leaned over the table, head in one hand, swirling wine lazily in her glass with the other. She’d been regaling them with stories of the cases she’d had to set aside thanks to the current one; only Makoto seemed to be really listening.

“... and THEN, if that wasn’t enough, I have to track down a couple of guys for tax fraud--they’re PROBABLY yakuza cronies, and they’re gonna keep avoiding me until hell freezes over.” She sipped more of her wine. “And I’m sitting here going out drinking instead of chasin’ em down… some detective I am….”

“You’ll get your chance, sis,” said Makoto--it was less encouraging than it was an attempt to placate her.

“Those tax guys won’t know what hit ‘em,” said Akira.

“Yakuza,” Goro corrected him.

“Whatever.”

“Well, anyway,” said Niijima, finishing off her wine. “I guess it’s not all bad. I don’t get to relax like this often… the director’s lookin’ out for me like always.”

“You seem to be on good terms with the director,” said Goro. “Do you work together often?”

“That guy? I work with him alllll the time,” Niijima went on. “He’s always willing to help chew the cases I get stuck on. You know, when I was just starting out as a rookie, the greenest of the green, Mr. Director really helped me out. He really did.”

“He did, huh?” said Goro, smiling.

“I had all kindsa people breathing down my neck, and you know what he did? He looked out for me. People said a woman couldn’t lead a murder case on her own, that I _shouldn’t_ do it, no way--because women would get too emotional seeing the body, you know, the usual bullshit--and he stuck up for me and let me take the case. And I caught the guy! That’s why I’ve got a lot of respect for him. He’s just…. A really good guy, you know? A good guy. I wouldn’t be where I am now without him.”

“Mm-hm,” said Goro, nodding along. This marked the first time he’d seen the detective this drunk. They’d gone out to drinks with their compatriots in France, but Niijima had been more reserved then--in Japan it’s common practice to get drunk with one’s coworkers; in France, not so much.

“Sounds like his wife is lucky to have him,” said Akira. “If, uh. If he has one.”

“You kidding? That guy?” said Niijima. “The only thing he’s married to is his work. But if work is his wife, then yeah, maybe she’s lucky…”

“Well, she better watch out, because it sounds like he’s having a side affair with antiquing,” said Akira.

Niijima burst into cackling laughter. She put her head down on the table to ride out her giggle fit, and it was a while before she got ahold of herself.

“That was a good one, Kurusu-kun,” she said once she finally recovered. “Pour me a little more, will you? Gotta finish the bottle…”

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” said Makoto sternly, moving the wine bottle out of her sister’s reach.

“Aw, Makoto, this is nothing,” she said. “I’ve been drunker’n this. If you wanna make it in this field, you gotta learn how to go hard at drinking parties--!”

“Yes, but tonight I’m your designated driver, and I say it’s time to slow down.”

“Have some water, Niijima-san,” Goro offered, sliding her largely-ignored water glass toward her. She took a grateful swig.

“Thanks, Adachi.”

“Akechi.”

“Akechi.” She hiccupped. “That’s a cute name. Akecchin. Hey, Kurusu, you should call him Akecchin.”

“I like that,” Akira agreed. “It’s better’n the nicknames you can come up with for his first name. Gocchan. Gororin. Gokkun. Hey, that one suits you--!”

“Aaaaand you’re done! You’re done.” Goro threw his hands over his partner’s mouth and flashed his coworkers a smile. “Niijimas, it’s been a lovely evening, but I think it’s time for us to go.”

“I think that would be best, yes,” said Makoto. She checked her watch before flagging the waiter down for the check. “It’s getting pretty late…”

“Should we split the bill?” said Goro.

“No need; I can have the department reimburse me.” Makoto handed the waiter her credit card. “Two copies of the receipt, please.”

“You got it.”

It wasn’t long before the waiter came back with the receipts, one of which Goro tucked into his wallet. He checked his phone for the time: it was a little after midnight. He was amazed they’d been out so long; he’d lost track of time talking with everyone. He wondered if Arsene had already tried to make a move… would they have heard something by now?

“You alright, babe?” Akira asked.

“Ah, just thinking…” said Goro. “What about you? Not too much to drink?”

“Nah, just a class or two,” said Akira. “I’m a little tipsy, that’s all.”

“You mean glass?”

“What did I say?”

“Class.”

“Oh. Maybe I’m tipsier than I thought.”

“Let’s get you all home,” said Makoto. She gave her snoozing sister a gentle nudge to rouse her. “Do you live close by, Akechi-san? Would you and Kurusu-kun like a ride?”

“We would love one, thank you. I think we missed the last train already…”

* * *

Goro wished he could relax, but he just couldn’t.

He spent the whole ride back to the apartment gazing out the window, Akira snoozing on his shoulder. He checked his phone repeatedly to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from anyone, but he had no new notifications. The longer they went without hearing from the SIU director, the more his worry grew that something had gone wrong. That Arsene had slipped in and out beneath their notice…

They were back at the apartment in a little under an hour. Goro thanked Makoto for giving them a ride back, and wished her luck getting Niijima home in one piece. He and Akira headed upstairs together, trying not to make too much noise.

“Something bothering you, babe?” Akira asked once they were inside. Goro sighed as he slipped his shoes off.

“Worried about the case, is all…”

“Sounds like you should’ve had a drink too,” said Akira, grinning, “Would’ve helped you relax a little.”

“You know I don’t like alcohol, Akira.”

“I know, I know…”

Goro headed back toward their bedroom, Akira close behind him. Goro felt hands on his waist as he reached for the doorknob.

 _“Really?_ It’s past one in the morning.”

“Good a time as any.”

“I’m tired, and you’re drunk. Let’s just go to bed.”

“I’m not drunk, just tipsy…”

Akira laid a kiss at the back of his partner’s neck, and Goro shivered.

“That’s hardly fair--!”

“If you don’t wanna fuck that’s okay,” said Akira, “But… can we at least make out instead? I just wanna be with you a little longer…”

“What do you mean, ‘be with me longer’?” Goro sighed. “We already live and work together! When _aren’t_ we together?”

“When we’re asleep,” said Akira, giggling.

“We sleep in the same bed!!”

“Ooh, can we make out in bed??”

Goro let out another exasperated sigh, putting a hand to his forehead.

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“Mm-hm,” Akira hummed, giving him another kiss. “You married me anyway.”

“I did.”

Akira wrapped his arms around him, burying his nose into his partner’s soft hair.

“I wanna stay awake with you a little longer…” he murmured. “When we’re asleep, I don’t get to see how beautiful you are…”

Goro smiled in spite of himself. He leaned back into Akira’s embrace.

“Alright,” he said. “We can make out. Just a little, though.”

“Yaaay!”

“And don’t go thinking you can always flirt with me to get what you want.”

“Aw, but it works so well…!”

The two of them flopped into bed together; Goro from exhaustion, and Akira from losing his balance on the way there. Goro took a minute to admire him, sleepily--he _definitely_ looked a little drunk. Goro’s detective training had taught him to spot inebriation even in someone experienced at hiding it. And yet, seeing the same traits in his fiance was… endearing, somehow.

Maybe it was the way Akira giggled as they kissed, their lips never quite lining up correctly. The way his hands wandered, never seeming to settle in one place for long--darting under Goro’s shirt, pressing warm against his skin--then sneaking down to his ass for a playful squeeze. For once, Goro could even tolerate the wine on his partner’s breath. Their kisses were sloppy, harried--but he couldn’t get enough.

_Maybe I ought to get you drunk more often._

He almost felt bad for thinking it.

But as Akira pulled his shirt over his head and came back with another clumsy kiss, Goro decided he didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *TL note: "gokkun" is slang for swallowing semen after performing fellatio. i'm the worst


	14. An Alibi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Goro awaken to the news that Arsene has escaped again--which means the two must scramble to make sure Akira's alibi is sound.

Goro was rudely awakened the next morning by a jazzy tune coming from somewhere in the room. He sat up groggily and took a look around, trying to discern what could possibly be making that sound. His eyes fell on Akira’s nightstand, where his phone was lit up with an incoming call.

“That’s yours, Akira.”

“I know,” Akira mumbled, stirring. “I don’t wanna…”

“Why is your ringtone Arsene’s theme?”

Akira reached over to the nightstand and managed to answer the call before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?”

_“It’s Makoto. I tried calling Akechi first, but he didn’t pick up--is he with you?”_

Akira looked toward the opposite nightstand. Goro’s phone sat there innocuously.

“Babe, is your phone charged?”

“Huh?” Goro reached for his phone, checking it. “Ah… I must have forgotten to charge it when we got back.”

“Mine’s probably low on juice too…” said Akira. “We, uh, went straight to bed last night… What’s up, Makoto?”

 _“You two should come to the station as soon as possible.”_ said Makoto. _“I can fill you in with the details when you get here, but the short version is Arsene got away again. We need to confirm your alibi.”_

“Ah…” said Akira.

“Ah, what?” said Goro, “Akira, what happened--?”

Akira said goodbye to Makoto and hung up. He turned to Goro, smiling weakly.

“He got away.”

“Ugh…” Goro put a hand to his forehead. “Let me guess: they want to make sure you have an alibi.”

“Bingo.”

“The receipt from last night is in my coat,” said Goro, “That’ll cover it until about midnight, and Makoto can vouch for you until 1 AM… After that it’s just me and you.”

The two of them traded worried glances.

“If the crime took place any later than that…”

“Come on, Goro,” said Akira. “Let’s get to the station first, and worry about it then…”

He got out of bed, stretching; he was considerably more naked than he’d remembered being last night. He scanned the room, looking for his underwear.

“When did I take my clothes off…?”

“Sometime after you took off all of mine,” Goro answered him matter-of-factly, climbing out of bed. Akira watched him, mentally thanking his drunken self for allowing him to see such beautiful scenery first thing in the morning.

“Did we fuck…?”

“No. You kept saying you wanted to, but then you conked out.”

“Sounds about right.”

Akira found a respectable-looking shirt and put it on, pulling his cardigan over it. The two of them dressed hastily, and after grabbing breakfast at the convenience store across the street, made their way downtown.

* * *

They found the Niijima sisters in Sae’s office, along with the forlorn-looking SIU director. They were huddled over to watch something on the director’s laptop, but from the looks on their faces, there wasn’t much helpful evidence. The three of them looked up as Akira and Goro came in.

“There you two are,” said Niijima.

“Sorry we’re late,” said Akira, “What happened?”

“Take a look.”

Niijima spun the laptop around so the two of them could see it. On the screen was black-and-white security footage from the apartment; a guard could be seen keeping watch over the living room. At about three in the morning the guard collapsed, apparently losing consciousness. Not long after, a black shadow entered the room, lifted a pair of framed prints off the wall, and put them into his bag. In their place he left a small piece of paper about the size of a business card. Then he walked back out.

“So we actually have footage this time…” said Goro. “How on earth…?”

“I just set up a camera that wasn’t connected to any networks, just in case,” said the director. “It had its own backup battery and everything--not that it’s much help, though. With that disguise, it’s impossible to see the suspect’s face.”

“But we _do_ have a time for the crime,” said Niijima. “Approximately three in the morning last night.”

“That’s well after we left the restaurant…” said Makoto worriedly.

"Alright," said the director. "Let's hear your alibi, Mr. Kurusu."

“We came home from drinks at around one,” said Goro, “We were awake for a bit after that; I’m not sure how long we were up. Probably not that long… Akira was asleep before I was.” He met the director’s gaze. “Regardless, it would have been highly unlikely for Akira to leave without my knowing last night, much less be in downtown Shibuya by the time of the crime.”

“I don’t know…” the director didn’t quite seem convinced.

“I can vouch for their return time,” said Makoto. “The drive was a little under an hour by car. By train it would take much longer; it’s unlikely, but--oh, but he wouldn’t have been able to catch one until morning, anyway.”

“If Kurusu-kun left the house at around two, and took a taxi to Shibuya, he could have made it here with time to spare,” said the director gravely.

“Can I pitch in here, or does personal testimony not matter?” said Akira.

All eyes fell to him.

“You could be in serious trouble if it comes out you’re lying, but go on,” said Niijima.

“As I’m sure my fiance can testify, I was a _little_ drunk last night. I came home, got in bed, and then passed out.”

“Can anyone prove it?” asked the director.

“Akira slept the night through at our apartment,” said Goro simply. “That’s the truth, Mr. Director. You’re welcome to search our flat for the stolen paintings if you don’t believe us.”

Goro’s words hung in the air; the tension in the room was almost thick enough to slice. The SIU director seemed to be deeply considering taking him up on his offer--Goro could see it written into his expression.

 _Go on, search it,_ Goro thought. _It will only be an embarrassment for you when your search turns up empty._

“Alright,” the director said finally. “It’s not 100% watertight, but I’ll accept your alibi for now.”

Akira and Goro shared a relieved glance.

“I suppose I’ll leave the rest to your team, Niijima-kun,” said the director. “I apologize if I stepped on your toes during all this…”

“It’s not a problem, sir.”

With that, the director shut his laptop with a _snap_ and stood up. He looked at each of them in turn as he slipped the computer into his bag.

“Good luck to you all,” he said. “That thief likely won’t go down easily. You have the Special Investigation Unit’s full cooperation if you need it.”

“Thank you, sir.” said Niijima. “We’ll get him next time. I promise. You’ll have those prints back in no time.”

“Thank you…”

The director left the room, closing the door politely behind himself. Akira and Goro pulled up chairs so they could join Makoto and Niijima at the detective’s desk, but it was a while before anyone spoke. Makoto reviewed the notes she’d taken on a legal pad, while Sae gazed out the window, deep in thought.

“Do we know how he got in, at least?” asked Goro after a time.

“We believe he used a duplicate key,” said Niijima. “There was no evidence of tampering on the locks, and it looks like he didn’t try the vents, either.”

“Interesting,” said Goro. “I wonder where he got that key… or who gave it to him. What about the guards? Do we know why they suddenly collapsed?”

“Sleeping gas,” said Makoto. “A small tin canister was recovered at the scene. It’s similar to the one used by Arsene in France--but they’re actually pretty easy to obtain on the black market, so that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“I see. In that case…” said Goro. “I think there are a few conclusions we can draw here. First, this likely wasn’t another of those ‘trial runs’ Akira was talking about. Arsene actually took what he said he would.”

“Right…” said Niijima.

“With that theory ruled out… this may just be a shot in the dark, but I no longer think this is the work of Akira’s former patron.”

“You don’t?” said Akira.

“Of course not,” said Goro. “It strikes me as highly unlikely that a criminal mastermind in France would have any interest in targeting a relatively unknown private collector in Japan. The targeted pieces were consumer goods this time, as well; though original ukiyo-e prints may be rare treasures now, they were first mass-produced as commodities. They don’t seem like the kind of pieces Arsene would go after.”

“Aw, babe, you did your art history homework…!” Akira practically beamed.

“In any case,” Goro waved him off, though he couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride, “Taking this incident into context with the one at the Bridgestone, it seems likely that the first incident was partially an attempt to send us down the wrong trail--to make us _believe_ that Akira and his patron were the ones behind this.”

“That makes sense,” said Niijima, “The language of the first card was clearly meant to evoke Arsene’s original motives.”

“A pretense which the new Arsene has since dropped,” said Goro. “I’d argue that the new Arsene’s accomplice may be someone looking to use that name to his benefit somehow.”

The Niijima sisters shared a concerned glance.

“Let’s put a flag on those prints, for starters,” said Niijima. “Not just at museums, but at auctions… I’ll see if we have any undercover officers in the black market that can keep an eye out.”

“The motive stated on the card may not be what Arsene actually intends to do, either,” said Goro. “I could easily see someone using Arsene to expand his own collection.”

“Right…” Niijima frowned. “Let’s see… Makoto, l want you to talk to the building manager. If Arsene used a duplicate key, we need to find out how he got it.”

“Roger that.”

“As for you two…” Niijima took a flash drive from her desk and handed it to Goro. “Here’s all the footage and audio from last night. The director’s team is already combing through it, but it wouldn’t hurt to have another couple pairs of eyes and ears. There should be a spare laptop at your desk.”

“Understood, Niijima-san.”

“Alright, everyone,” she said. “I’ve got some calls to make… let me know what you find out.”

Makoto, Akira, and Goro stood up and bowed to Niijima before leaving her office. Goro wasn’t looking forward to spending the afternoon listening to hours and hours of bug recordings, but he knew there wasn’t much else to be done. They found an old laptop in one of the desk drawers; they got it all set it up and both pulled up chairs. Akira took some earbuds from his bag and handed one of them to Goro.

“We should probably start listening at around three… maybe 2:45?”

“Got it.”

Even as they listened, Goro couldn’t help letting his mind wander a little. With every twist and turn in this case, the truth felt further from his reach. If he didn’t get to the bottom of this, and soon, the police could start looking for the next best explanation--which meant Akira would need to have an indisputable alibi anytime Arsene made a move.

Akira had avoided an arrest by the skin of his teeth this time. Goro didn’t want to think about the hoops they’d have to jump through going forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes The Arc I Added At The Last Minute lmao... if the writing seemed rougher the last couple chapters that's why!


	15. Okumura Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another calling card has been found--this time, at the home of one of Akira's old high school friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being enormous, whoops...

In late December, Goro finished up classes for the day only to find a message waiting on his phone. The caller ID read _Niijima_. A second notification lay below it, this one a text from Akira:

_Niijima called. Sounds like another card. Meet us at Okumura Tower in Shinjuku after class._

Goro rushed across town as fast as public transit could take him.

Okumura Tower - the corporate headquarters for Okumura Foods Incorporated - stood among the forest of skyscrapers in Shinjuku’s business district. Makoto Niijima met Goro in the main lobby and led him to the elevator. She inserted a special key card and pressed the button for the topmost floor.

“So…” said Goro. “A calling card was found in a corporate office…?”

“Not quite,” said Makoto. “The penthouse suite serves as a private residence for the company owners; that’s where the card was found.”

“I see. So then, Mr. Okumura was the recipient of the card?”

“His daughter was,” said Makoto. “Mr. Okumura died of sudden heart failure a number of years ago.”

“Ah.”

“His daughter inherited the company, but she’s letting the board of directors run it while she finishes business school,” said Makoto. “She’s very young--actually, we were in high school together.”

“Small world.”

The elevator doors opened to a short hallway with handsome wood-paneled walls framing an otherwise plain door. Gold kanji reading “President’s Suite” hung on the wall next to the door, above a small keypad. Makoto swiped her key at the pad, and the door clicked open to admit them.

Inside, the wealth of the Okumura family was on plain display. The front hall was decorated with sleek, modern furniture and ersatz wall art. Goro got the sense that the late Okumura had been a fan of space-age designs. Makoto led him into the main sitting room: a smartly-furnished space with floor to ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city beyond. Goro spotted Akira sitting on one of the (frankly, uncomfortable-looking) couches and chatting with a young woman around their age. Akira looked up as they approached.

“Ah, here he comes now,” said Akira. “Goro, I was just telling Haru all about you!”

Goro was a bit taken aback by his partner’s casual tone.

“Haru… ah, you must mean Okumura-san.”

“Yep. She was a good friend of mine in high school,” Akira nodded to himself. “We were in the gardening club together.”

“Well, we were the only two people in it…” Haru said apologetically. Her voice was very dainty, almost like a child’s. She turned to face Goro and bowed to him slightly. “My name is Haru Okumura, current company owner of Okumura Foods. It’s good to meet you.”

“Goro Akechi.” Goro bowed back to her. “Consulting detective.”

“ _And_ my fiance,” Akira added. Goro flushed.

“Oh, my! Congratulations!” Haru lifted a hand to her mouth in shock. “Akira, you didn’t mention you were getting married!”

“Can you _please_ refrain from talking about our relationship on the job--?” Goro hissed.

“What? I thought it was an important point of clarification,” said Akira teasingly.

Haru giggled a little.

“You two seem well-suited for each other,” she said. “You’ll have to let me know when the wedding is.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sending invitations to all my Shujin friends,” said Akira, grinning, “But we’re getting off topic.”

_“You’re_ the one who put us here,” Goro huffed.

_“Anyway,_ _”_ said Makoto. “Okumura-san, can you please show us to where the calling card was found?”

“Oh, yes!”

Haru stood up, and Akira was quick to follow her.

“The card was found in the gallery, where my father’s sword is kept,” Haru continued. “If you’ll just follow me this way…”

Haru took them through a doorway on the far side of the room. As they headed into the next room, Goro took his fiance aside.

“I don’t suppose this Okumura-san is _also_ a former flame of yours.”

“Fake dated for two weeks to get her out of an arranged marriage,” Akira answered without missing a beat. “I had Sojiro pose as my rich father, and we exposed her suitor for the scumbag he was. One of my more brilliant plans, if I do say so myself.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Hey, it worked!”

Haru led them into a room with a decidedly different atmosphere than the rest of the suite. This room had red walls lined with decorative folding screens, and various antiques stood on pedestals around the room. At the back of the room was a sort of raised alcove with a single tatami mat floor. A traditional Japanese sword, sheathed in gold, sat on a special stand in the alcove.

Several police officers milled around the room. Among them was the elder Niijima, who seemed to be reviewing some notes. She looked up as Goro and the others approached.

“There you are,” she said.

“Sorry, I had class…” Goro smiled. “So? What’s the situation?”

“Take a look,” said Niijima. She handed him a ziploc bag, inside which was a piece of red cardstock with a familiar letter _A._ Goro took a moment to read it, while Akira peered over his shoulder.

_To Okumura-san: The sword Kogitsunemaru is a national treasure, and has no business rusting away in a private collection. I will collect it on New Year’s eve to offer it back to Inari. - A_

“The same self-important drivel as last time…” said Goro, “Niijima-san, what else can you tell us?”

“I don’t know much about swords, so I spent a little time on Google to see what I could find,” said Niijima. “Kogitsunemaru is the sword featured in the Noh play _Kokaji_ , so it’s something of a legend in the world of swords. It’s generally believed that the sword really existed, but there’s been no sign of it since the 7th century. Several shrines and temples claim to house the real one.”

“So, is this one real…?” asked Goro.

“I’m not sure,” said Niijima, “We’re calling in a sword conservator to get it checked out. The Okumura family seems to believe it’s genuine, and has been passing it down as an heirloom for generations.”

“Alright…” Goro put a hand to his chin. “I’m bothered by the line ‘offer it back to Inari’...”

“It’s said that Inari took the form of a fox and helped forge the sword after the forger prayed at Fushimi-Inari shrine in Kyoto--hence the name Kogitsunemaru, ‘Little Fox,’” said Niijima. “Why Inari would want it back, I can’t even fathom…”

“That’s nonsense,” said Goro simply. “Obviously, he means he’s going to give the sword to Fushimi-Inari, and then give himself a pat on the back for solving a non-issue. I wonder, though… his last card implied he planned to give the prints to a museum. Could he be trying to take art out of private collections and make them publicly available…?”

“Maybe,” Akira shrugged. “He could also just be making up excuses to take what he wants. If it’s not Morgana behind this, I’m guessing Arsene’s reasons aren’t so chivalrous.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter,” said Niijima. “Let’s focus on catching him, and then worry about how all this fits together. The card says he’s aiming to steal the sword on New Year’s Eve--that gives us a little over a week to prepare. That’s not much time…”

“Usually Arsene gives two weeks’ notice, but the last case had only a week as well,” said Goro. “I wonder why he’s in such a hurry?”

“Probably trying to get his holiday shopping done,” said Akira, grinning.

“That’s not funny,” said Goro. He swept the room with his eyes before continuing, taking note of every ceiling vent. “Okumura-san, tell me about access. Is the elevator the only way in and out of the suite?”

“There’s also a fire exit with stairs,” Haru piped up. “It requires a key to open from the outside.”

“We’ll need to keep very close tabs on any and all keys with access to this suite,” said Goro. “In addition, I will need blueprints of the building that show ventilation shafts, so we can get those locked down--”

“That won’t be enough,” said Akira.

“Oh?” Goro raised an eyebrow.

“Say you keep tabs on the keys and lock down the shafts,” said Akira. “He’s going to get in anyway--I can think of several ways he could get in with those conditions. He’s already gotten past extra-tight security once; trying to prevent him from getting in is almost a waste of time.”

“Alright, so what would _you_ have us do?” said Goro.

“Generate as much evidence as we can,” said Akira. “He’s probably going to get away regardless, so we don’t have anything on this guy until we can prove he was here. Bug the target, bug the room, maybe even a tracking device--and get us some cameras that can’t be tampered with remotely. Everything we use has to be off the grid.”

For a few minutes, Niijima, Makoto, and Goro could only stare at him.

“Er,” he said. “At least, I think those are things we can do? The director had cameras and bugs last time…”

“No, that’s all possible,” said Niijima. “The only trouble is, that kind of technology is typically reserved for the Special Investigations Unit. We’d have to get clearance to use them in a private residence, which could take a while…”

“And is this not cause for a Special Investigation?”

All heads turned as a new voice joined the others. A balding, bespectacled older man had entered the room while everyone was bickering--it was none other than the SIU director himself.

“Mr. Director!” Niijima snapped to attention. “What brings you up here, sir?”

“I heard there was another calling card, so I’ve come to offer my unit’s services for this case as needed,” said the director. “Not just the technology, mind--I’m also offering to help bypass a few of those bureaucratic hurdles that might delay your response. This is not an ordinary case, and as such, extraordinary measures will be necessary.”

“Thank you,” said Niijima. “We appreciate any help we can get, on such short notice…”

“Happy to help.” The director smiled his wan smile. “Of course, I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a personal reason for helping as well.”

“Looking to get back at Arsene, sir?” said Niijima, returning his smile.

“But of course. Those Utamaro prints cost me a fortune--I should like to have them back!”

Niijima couldn’t help laughing.

“Alright, sir. What did you have in mind for preparations?”

“Well, let’s see, I think Kurusu-kun had the right idea…”

As his superiors discussed options with Akira and Makoto, Goro took a notepad from his bag and flipped open to a blank page, jotting down a couple of his observations, along with bits and pieces he overheard. It would take a lot of work to completely secure such a spacious apartment--but if there was any chance of snaring Arsene, he wanted to leave no stone unturned.

“Akechi-kun?”

“Hm?” Goro looked up to see Niijima peering over his shoulder.

“What did you think of Kurusu’s suggestions?”

“... I hate to admit it, but he has a point,” Goro sighed. “I don’t know if we’ll have the capacity to go all-out, but at the very least, putting some kind of tracking device on the target might not hurt.”

Niijima smiled.

“Seems like I was right to invite him along, then,” she said. “Call it a detective’s intuition.”

“Mm.”

“The two of you seem to work together well,” Niijima continued. “I think you’ll both be a great asset to us.”

“Thank you…”

Goro was somewhat comforted by her words--truthfully, part of him still doubted his abilities after what happened in France. The fact that Niijima still had faith in him was reassuring, but he still wondered whether he would be able to catch Arsene this time…

“Oh, Niijima-kun!” The director’s voice interrupted them. “I’ve just thought of something.”

“Oh?”

Niijima and Goro looked up as the Director came back over to them.

“This isn’t exactly standard procedure, but there might be a better way to protect the sword,” he said. “The evidence locker down at the station is kept under lock and key, with 24-hour surveillance. We could have the sword moved there temporarily, until the danger has passed.”

The entire investigation team stared at him.

“I… I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that,” said Goro.

“Myself as well…” said Niijima.

“If only I’d thought of it earlier--I wouldn’t be out a set of prints!” the director joked. “Okumura-san, what do you think? Would you be alright leaving the sword in police custody for now?”

“Of course,” said Haru. “This sword is extremely important to my family. I’m happy to comply with any request in order to keep it safe. I think there’s even a carrying case for it; let me look for that…”

Haru left the room, followed by a couple of officers.

“Even if we hide the sword, we should assume Arsene will still try to break in here,” said Goro. “Let’s go ahead with the measures we previously discussed.”

“Agreed,” said Niijima.

“Arsene will likely notice that the sword is gone before he enters the room,” said Goro, glancing up at the ceiling. “If he enters through either of those vents, he’ll see the empty stand and abort mission. We may want to leave a replica in its place.”

“I can see about having one commissioned.”

“It needs to be exact, even if it’s just the handle and sheath. If the card was discovered in this room, then it’s likely Arsene has seen the sword and knows what it looks like. We should also plan to make the switch the day before the scheduled date.”

“Alright.” Niijima jotted all of this down. “Thank you, Akechi-kun. I’ll go find the head of security here to get you those blueprints.”

“Thank you.”

Niijima left the room, and Goro looked over his notes again. He glanced up to check on Akira, who was back to chatting with the SIU director about something or other--Goro was too far away to make out what they were saying.

_In France I had no idea what I was up against. But maybe, this time…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to touken ranbu i can pull japanese sword trivia out of my ass on command
> 
> Also, fair warning! I am going to be traveling for a bit this next week, and a couple of upcoming chapters are either a) not done or b) have illustrations that are not done. So if I suddenly stop updating that's why orz... Hopefully I'll be able to get some more work done on this fic during my downtime! 
> 
> ~~I've been doing most of the work on this fic during my day job, and i have a couple of scenes that I.... can't really make progress on at work lmao...~~


	16. Supervision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years Eve arrives, and all the preparations are done--with just one little snag left to work out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so much of this fic is me looking up and thinking "i can't BELIEVE after TWO FICS i didn't do THIS TROPE" so here we are lads

New Year’s Eve arrived sooner than Goro would have liked. At seven o’clock in the evening, he and Akira arrived at the police station for a final briefing with Niijima. The sword had been moved to the evidence locker earlier that day, and a very convincing fake left in its place--Goro had to admit, he was impressed that Niijima could get such a detailed replica so fast. Now, all that was left was to assign roles and get into position.

Goro and Akira found the Niijima sisters in their usual meeting room, this time accompanied by the SIU director and a few officers in uniform. They joined the group around the table, pulling up chairs.

“Alright, everyone,” said Niijima. “This is it. It’s going to be a very long night, so I hope you’ve all had some coffee.”

Nobody laughed.

“I know, nobody wants to spend New Years on the job,” Niijima continued, “But we’re going to need all hands on deck for this. Now--let’s go over everyone’s assignments for the night. First of all, we’ll be needing someone to supervise Kurusu-kun.”

“What?” Akira sat up a little in his chair.

“Half the department still thinks you’re a suspect, and I’d like to do whatever I can to allay those suspicions,” said Niijima matter-of-factly. “To make sure you have a watertight alibi this time, we’ll be assigning you a buddy whose sole task for the evening will be to never let you out of their sight.”

“How old do you think I am?” said Akira. “You can just park me somewhere in the station and I’ll be perfectly happy playing mobile games all night.”

“No, we. Actually need someone to be physically with you,” said Niijima. “If something happens and we’re unable to confirm where you were for any significant amount of time, you could be in the hot seat again.”

“We wouldn’t want the former Arsene running around unsupervised on a night like tonight,” said the SIU director. “Not that I still believe you’re involved, Kurusu-kun, but the coincidence would be unfortunate.”

“Alright,” said Goro plainly, before his fiance could say anything. “I have an idea. I’ll be right back.”

Goro left the room. The rest of them waited in silence for him to return; after a few minutes he reappeared with a pair of handcuffs in hand.

“Akechi-kun?” said Niijima.

Goro said nothing; he took Akira’s wrist and nonchalantly clipped one of the cuffs around it. The other he clipped to his own wrist.

“There,” he said, holding up his hand. “Is _this_ supervised enough for you?”

Everyone stared at him in shock--and no one more shocked than Akira, who looked at him like Christmas had come early.

“Babe…!!”

“Don’t get any ideas,” said Goro. “This is just a precaution. And please don’t call me ‘babe’ while we’re at work.”

“Uh _huh,”_ said Akira, grinning. “I am _so_ cornering you in the bathroom later.”

“Please do not do that.”

“ _Gentlemen,”_ said Niijima sharply, bringing an abrupt end to the boys’ banter. The SIU director coughed politely, and Makoto looked like she wanted to be literally anywhere else. “Can we please just get through _one night_ without any of your nonsense? That’s all I ask of you.”

“I apologize, Niijima-san,” said Goro, smiling pleasantly. “My fiance’s questionable behavior aside, is this a satisfactory solution to the problem?”

Niijima sighed.

“I suppose…”

“I’ll even entrust _you_ with the key,” Goro continued. “Just in case anyone still believes me to be Arsene’s accomplice. I’ve heard my fair share of nasty rumors.”

“....Fine. I’ll accept your proposal,” said Niijima. She held up her hand, and Goro tossed her the keys. “You two behave yourselves, alright?”

“We will,” said Goro.

“No promises,” said Akira, the grin never leaving his face. Goro elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow--!”

“ _Anyway,_ ” said Niijima, “With that settled, let’s get to our assignments. Makoto and I will remain here at the station to keep an eye on the evidence locker, just in case. Nobody gets in or out without our approval.”

“Understood,” said Makoto.

“Kurusu-kun and Akechi-kun will be on-site at Okumura Tower, providing support for our patrolling officers.”

“Got it,” said Akira.

“Roger that,” said Goro. Initially, he wondered why Niijima would want to spend the night away from the Okumura suite, waiting around with Makoto at the station. It occurred to him that assigning Akira to the suite was a move to put him as far away from the real target as possible.

“Now, we’ll be checking in with each other every hour on the hour,” Niijima continued. “You will have about five minutes of leeway; if we don’t hear from either team by five after, we will send a squad in to check on you. That goes for myself and Makoto as well.”

“Understood,” said Goro.

“We’ll have another debrief in the morning, then take a break to get some rest,” said Niijima, “I’ll have officers on call at the station to review footage and--if we’re lucky--keep an eye on our freshly-captured perpetrator.”

“Anything you need us to do, Niijima-kun?” asked the SIU director.

“I think we’re set, Mr. Director,” Niijima responded. “Thank you for all your help so far.”

“You’re quite welcome. I’ll be heading home now; give me a call in the morning.”

“Will do.” Niijima turned to face the others, glancing over each of them in turn. “Alright, everyone. Let’s move.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [here!](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/168840958587/jokers-wild-is-back-with-a-short-update-and)


	17. On Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps being handcuffed to his fiance was a little more trouble than it was worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, everyone! There was the holiday madness, the rush to finish writing the upcoming spicy scene, the realization that actually yeah i want to draw something for that too, the rush to then get THAT squared away...
> 
> Anyway, I should be back to updating regularly for the next little while. Enjoy, and happy new year!

Akira quickly discovered that being tethered to his fiance was more cumbersome than enjoyable. Sure, he got to stand close to Goro as they went over instructions with the ground team, and they had to put their chairs together to sit comfortably in the security room. It quickly lost its appeal when it started to hamper ordinary things--like getting coffee, or going to the bathroom. If they weren’t already engaged, Akira would have found the whole thing uncomfortably invasive. He even started to think that having sex this way would be more trouble than it was worth…

...ah, maybe he’d need to test that one to be certain.

“No,” said Goro simply, during a much-needed bathroom run at a little after eleven. “Stay focused, Akira.”

“Aw, not even a kiss?”

“We can play however you want on our own time,” said Goro, as though he were scolding a child. “We can even use the restraints to tie our wrists together, if you’d like. But not right now.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Akira,” Goro sighed in exasperation, “I’ve lost my job because of you once already. I’m not about to do it again.”

“Fine,” Akira finally conceded, pouting. He met Goro’s eyes in the bathroom mirror. “It sounds hot, though, doesn’t it? Fucking with our wrists bound.”

“Ugh, yes…” Goro looked away, flushing.

“We could even throw in our thief game for a little icing on the cake.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

The two of them headed back to the security room, relieving the officer who’d been filling in for them. So far, the night had been quiet--save for the comings and goings of officers taking breaks. Their regular checks with the Niijimas had returned nothing of note. Goro had brought some homework to do, while Akira was mostly glued to his phone. They looked up to the security screens every so often, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The two of them knew it almost wasn’t worth the effort to keep watch: if Arsene could simply wire in innocuous footage, they’d never suspect a thing. Their officers on the ground would be much more important for stopping the thief.

The hours passed uneventfully. At a little past two in the morning, after they’d checked in with Niijima, Goro stood up and yawned.

“Doing alright, babe?” Akira asked.

“I’ll be fine. Just need a bit more coffee.”

“How many cups have you _had_?” Akira frowned.

“I’ve lost count…” Goro tugged a little at Akira’s wrist. “Can you stand up so we can get more?”

“You should rest,” said Akira. “I can hold down the fort for a while. I’m still pretty awake--and Ohara-san’s here too, so it won’t just be me.”

Akira indicated to the security guard on the other side of the room; he had been reading a book, but looked up as Akira mentioned his name. He nodded to Goro reassuringly.

“I have to stay awake, though…” said Goro.

“You can do one little power nap.”

Goro wanted to say something in protest, but another yawn interrupted him. Akira smiled.

“You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.”

“Shush.”

“Come on.” Akira gently pulled his fiance’s hand closer. He tugged at Goro’s glove to expose the back of his hand before bringing it to his lips. “I’ll even set a timer for you.”

“Fine.” Goro finally gave in, sitting back down. He lay his head on Akira’s shoulder and closed his eyes. “Wake me up after thirty minutes.”

“Mmhm. Setting the timer now.”

After setting an alarm with his phone, Akira leaned his head on his fiance’s and sighed. He knew he had to stay awake, but, maybe a half hour nap of his own wouldn’t hurt…

* * *

Haru Okumura couldn’t sleep.

She’d refused offers to stay in a hotel overnight, believing that she was in no personal danger--after all, Arsene targeted objects, not people. So long as she stayed in her room and slept, she likely wouldn’t have anything to worry about. And yet, she lay awake for hours, flinching at every imagined noise.

At around two-thirty in the morning she decided that she would not be sleeping anyway, and left the room in her pajamas and slippers.

The suite was dark. She greeted the patrolling officers blearily, confirming that the thief hadn’t yet made an appearance. They shooed her back toward her room, but she took her keys and wandered toward the elevator instead. Her friend Akira would likely still be on call in the security room. Maybe saying hello would do some good--he’d always had a knack for easing others’ anxiety.

No one answered at first, when she knocked on the security room door. After a minute, a uniformed guard appeared at the door. She’d seen him a few times before; he was an employee who regularly worked evening shifts.

“Oh! Miss President, what are you doing up this late?” the guard asked.

“I wanted to check up on Kurusu-kun,” she said. “As long as I’m awake, I figured…”

“Ah.” The guard lifted a finger to his lips. “He’s in here, but…”

The guard opened the door a little wider. Behind him, Haru spotted two figures in adjacent chairs at the security desk. She recognized Akira’s curly hair in an instant, and inferred that the man leaning on his shoulder must have been his fiance. The two were fast asleep.

“Shouldn’t we wake them up?” she asked.

“Kurusu-san had an alarm on his phone, but they both slept through it…” The guard smiled sheepishly. “I can cover for them until the next check-in, so don’t worry about us.”

“I see…” Haru glanced them over a bit. “Actually, I’ll be right back.”

Haru went back upstairs to the suite, finding the linen closet where her family stored blankets and pillows. She took a soft, lightweight blanket from the stack and quickly returned to the security room. The guard gave her a quizzical look as she strode inside.

“Miss President, I don’t think that’s necessary…”

Ignoring him, Haru walked over to the sleeping lovers and gently draped the blanket over them. She noticed the handcuffs connecting their wrists--what was that all about? Perhaps in the morning she’d have time to ask. Nonetheless, seeing the two of them sleeping so peacefully brought a smile to her face.

“They’re really sticking their necks out for me,” she said quietly. “It’s the least I can do to repay their kindness.”

Leaving the two of them gently tucked in, Haru made her way back upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know, i'm a _champion_ when it comes to derailing sexy situations. But I liked the idea of someone putting a blanket on them so much better...


	18. Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Goro receive a bit of a rude awakening.

“Detective Akechi--?”

Goro woke to someone rudely shaking him by the shoulders.

“Ugh, I’m awake,” he tried to wave them off, but his hand was still tethered to Akira’s. “How long was I out…?”

“You slept through the check-in, sir.” The guard smiled at him apologetically.

“I  _ what--?” _

“Muh…?” Akira stirred next to him. “What’s going on…?”

“You were both sleeping so soundly, I figured I’d do the check-in for you and let you get some rest,” said the guard. “But, er… Detective Niijima hasn’t responded, and I don’t know what to do.”

Goro stood up, throwing off the blanket he’d had on top of him--where it came from and how long it had been there, he had no idea. He could worry about that later. “Have you tried Makoto?”

“I radioed them both. Nothing.”

“I’ll try her cell.” Goro took his phone from his pocket and clumsily used his free hand to dial. “What time is it?”

“Ten after three.”

“Jesus…” Goro held the phone to his ear, waiting with bated breath for each ring. Eventually it went through to voicemail. “Nothing… Can you get ahold of anyone else at the station?”

“I’ll try…”

“Akira,” said Goro, turning to his fiance, “You try Makoto. You still have her number, right?”

“I think so…” Akira fished his own phone from his pocket. It rang a few times before it too went to voicemail. The guard, meanwhile, had his radio out.

“Hello? This is Ohara at Okumura Tower. Anybody getting this?”

_ “This is Abe at Shibuya police station. What’s wrong?” _

Goro walked over to the guard, dragging Akira with him, and snatched the radio from his hand.

“This is Detective Akechi. We’ve lost contact with the Niijimas, who were standing guard at the evidence locker. Can you send someone up there to see what’s going on? We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

_ “Roger that.” _

Akira and Goro shared a worried glance.

“Come on,” said Goro, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“Can we really just leave--?”

“I’ve got it under control here,” said the guard, “You two go.”

“Thanks, Ohara-san,” Goro smiled at him, briefly, but he turned back to his fiance with a darkened expression. “Akira, let’s move.”

* * *

The trains weren’t operating at this hour; Goro had to flag a wayward taxi to take them back to the station. Once they got there, they found the place was as calm as it usually was at that hour. There were a few officers on duty, but most of the lights were off, with offices empty--only those stuck working overtime still sat in the dark to work. The two of them practically ran to the evidence locker, where the Niijimas had set up chairs in the small anteroom outside it. The two women were unconscious in their chairs, and a third officer lay motionless on the floor.

Akira and Goro swept the room with their eyes, checking for signs of a struggle--but nothing else seemed out of place. The vents on the ceiling were all latched; there were no other entrances or exits. However, Akira’s eyes caught a small silver canister on the floor not too far from them.

“Goro--!”

“Huh?”

“Get back--we need masks!”

“What--?”

But Akira was already running, and Goro could do little more than stumble along behind him.

“What do you mean--?” 

“Sleeping gas,” said Akira, “I saw a canister on the ground. We need gas masks to go in there, or else we’ll hit the floor too.”

“What about the Niijimas--?”

“Masks first. Come on!”

* * *

They were able to find gas masks in a supply cabinet, and ran back to the evidence locker to extract the Niijima sisters. Goro alerted the rest of the station, and everyone scrambled to clear the scene: forensics picked up the canister, and the janitorial team worked quickly to air out the room. Once it was cleared for re-entry, Akira and Goro ventured into the evidence locker to check on the target.

They noticed immediately that something was wrong.

One of the lockers was ajar, empty; a red calling card was the only thing inside.

“He was here…” Akira said distantly. “How on earth did he…?”

“Nevermind that,” said Goro, “We have to secure the building. Make sure every exit, every window, every  _ vent _ is accounted for.” 

“We still had bugs on the real sword, right?” asked Akira. “Just in case?”

“I think so…” Goro frowned. “I’ll see if we can get a signal from those.”

All told, it was about an hour before the building was secured--and no trace of Arsene had been found. No vents had been tampered with, no locks picked. The cameras had gone down for a scheduled maintenance around two in the morning, and didn’t come back online until just after Goro and Akira arrived on the scene. They tried to triangulate the bugs and tracking devices they’d put in place… only to be led to a trash can not far from the police station. It would take time to go through the bugs’ audio, but Goro doubted there would be anything of note on them. They’d found nothing on the bugs from the director’s apartment, either.

By the time the team finished gathering what paltry evidence they could, Niijima and her sister were starting to stir in the break room.

“Thirsty…” Makoto groaned as she opened her eyes.

“Here.” Akira was ready with water bottles for the two of them. 

“What happened?” asked Niijima, taking a grateful swig.

“Sleeping gas,” said Goro. “The same kind from the last incident.”

“Is the sword…?”

“Gone,” said Goro. “Ditched the tracking device, too.”

“Damn it…”

Neither Akira nor Goro had ever heard Niijima swear before, at least not sober; they traded concerned glances.

“How are things at Okumura tower?” asked Makoto.

“No sign of Arsene all night,” said Goro. “We could check for tampering, but…”

“It’s possible he never bothered with the tower and came straight here instead,” said Niijima. She frowned. “But how…?”

“We can figure that out in the morning,” said Goro, yawning. “He’s clearly outwitted us. If we don’t have any way of finding him now, we might as well just go home and rest. We’ll need the energy for the next steps.”

“Alright,” said Niijima. “We can debrief more in the morning. Er. Afternoon…. I’ll aim for three.”

“That works for us.” Goro glanced at Akira before continuing. “Oh, right. Can we get the key for--you know.”

“Right, sure.”

Niijima took the handcuff key from her pocket and handed it to Goro. He unlocked the cuffs on both their wrists, and Akira stretched gratefully.

“That’s better,” he said. “Not that I didn’t have fun being chained to you all night…”

“Ugh, shut up.” 

Goro was just about done. It was four in the morning, their mission had failed spectacularly, and he was  _ not _ in the mood for his fiance’s jokes. He was about as tired as he was disappointed, and was looking forward to getting some sleep--but somehow, his mind still raced. Something was bothering him; a problem too big to ignore. Even as they rode home in the back of a police car, Goro still couldn’t stop thinking about it.

How had Arsene known to come to the station?


	19. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with a frustrating case on their hands, Akira has been planning this night for months. He's not about to let Arsene ruin his fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rating note: this chapter is sexually explicit._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Closing out the year with a nice, long, steamy chapter! Enjoy, ufufufu...

In the days that followed, the team debriefed what felt like a million times. They went over everything that could possibly have gone wrong, from moving the sword, to the infrequent check-ins--even to the types of tracking devices they’d used. They’d covered every base so thoroughly, it _should_ have been a perfect plan. And yet, Arsene had slipped through their preparations like water through a sieve. Goro continually wrestled with the question of _how_ \--and was increasingly bothered by the implications thereof.

The hardest part had been breaking the news to Haru: that after everything they’d done, they’d been unable to stop Arsene. She took the news with a grace that surprised everyone--well, everyone but Akira. After helping her escape a horrible engagement, and watching as she dealt with the aftermath of her father’s sudden death, Akira knew Haru Okumura was much stronger than she let on. She barely batted a lash as Goro told her what happened. Somehow, that only made Akira feel worse.

“I see,” said Haru, finally. “I’d expected better of the police--but I suppose Arsene is no ordinary thief. You did everything you could.”

“As soon as we apprehend him, we’ll make sure we recover the sword first thing,” said Akira. “We’ll get it back, Haru. I promise.”

“I appreciate you trying,” said Haru. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I will be happy to assist you however I can.”

“Thank you,” Goro smiled at her. “We’ll be sure to remember that.”

By the weekend, Akira and Goro finally had a little time to themselves. Supposedly they were using the time to craft a new plan, but Akira had had this day marked down on his calendar for some time, and he wasn’t about to let work get in the way of it. He found Goro in the living room, poring over security footage with his laptop.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Do you know what day it is?”

“... the fifth,” said Goro cautiously, checking the date on his computer.

“ _January_ fifth.”

“Yes…?”

“And do you know what happened six years ago on January fifth?”

“It’s…” Goro paused, trying to remember where he was at the time. Six years ago…  he’d only just arrived in France. “Oh…”

“It’s the anniversary of the day we met,” said Akira, smiling. “So I thought I’d do something special tonight.”

“Not on the anniversary of us getting together?”

“Do _you_ remember which day we got together?”

“Hm.” Goro thought about it for a bit. “No… Actually, I don’t remember if we ever formally confessed to each other.”

“So, until we have a real wedding date,” Akira winked as he said it, “I think we should use today as our anniversary. After all… Six years ago today, the lives of one Goro Akechi and one Akira Kurusu were forever changed.”

“Oh, stop.” Goro flushed a little. “Do you always have to be so dramatic?”

“Of course I do.” Akira held out his hand. “So, for tonight, let’s put work aside and focus on us.”

Goro smiled, conceding. He reached up and let Akira pull him to his feet.

_I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have a break…_

Akira made Goro dinner--chicken and pasta, a dish they’d often shared in Paris--and reminisced with him about the early days of their relationship. Aside from the occasional reference to places they’d visited, they hadn’t really discussed that time since beginning a new life together. The idyllic days before either one of them had any idea what the future had in store. Goro remembered wishing those days would last forever; that he wouldn’t lose the one shred of solace in his life…

In the end, his wish came true, didn’t it?

It had taken a few twists and turns, but now, six years on, he could spend time with Akira every day. He’d found the kind of happiness that, before, he never thought he’d be able to have--coming home to an apartment with the lights already on, and hearing his fiance’s “Welcome home!” each time he called out “I’m back!”. That earnest wish for “forever” had now become a promise wrapped around a silver ring.

They cleaned up and put the dishes away together, but couldn’t quite finish everything--Akira impatiently led his fiance away from the pans in the sink, hand in hand.

“Alright, alright,” said Goro, laughing gently. “Dare I ask what you have planned for tonight, dear?”

“Mm, that would ruin the surprise!”

Akira lifted his fiance into his arms--an awkward princess-carry, considering Goro’s height--and gleefully whisked him the rest of the way to their bed. Goro yelped in surprise as the two of them hit the pillows together.

“Ack! Akira--!”

Akira answered him with a kiss, and Goro couldn’t help giggling even as his fiance’s lips met his.

_To think that six years ago, I would never have imagined being able to kiss someone like this…_

Akira’s tongue brushed Goro’s upper lip teasingly, and he responded by opening his mouth a little to admit him. The two traded a few clumsy kisses, losing themselves in each other’s touch. It had been a difficult few days--few weeks, really--and Goro, for one, was glad for the opportunity to relieve some stress. Akira always had a way of making his worries seem far away.

Akira’s lips began to migrate a little, brushing over Goro’s chin, along his jawline, and then beneath his ear…

“Want me to get my shirt out of the way?” Goro offered, reaching for the buttons.

“Mm, I’d appreciate that.”

Akira backed off so that Goro could unbutton his shirt; he pulled off his own t-shirt while he waited. He soon grew impatient, however, and dove back in for a kiss with just half the buttons undone.

“Akira--!”

Goro gasped as his partner’s lips met his neck, warm and soft. Akira tugged gently at his skin; he knew better than to leave a mark so high up, much as he wanted to. Instead he’d have to be content to tease, slowly moving downward, sucking with gradually more force each time--until he reached Goro’s collarbone, and his restraint flew to the wind.

“Ah--! Ohhh….!”

“Good?” Akira murmured.

“Of course it is,” Goro responded, “You know that’s a weak spot of mine…”

“Hm,” said Akira, lifting his head. He admired the bright red mark he’d left before continuing, a plan already forming in his mind. “Goro’s weak spots… let’s see. Here--!”

He bent back down, latching onto Goro’s collarbone again. Goro let out a squeak, bracing for more--but Akira released him quickly this time.

“Aaand…. Here!”

Akira grabbed his fiance’s hand, bringing the inside of his wrist to his lips. Goro yelped as Akira kissed it, passionately, dragging his tongue along the tendon--!

“A-Akira--!”

“Hmm… I can’t reach the last one if you’re on your back…” Akira pouted a little, releasing Goro’s hand. “Won’t you roll over for me?”

Goro complied eagerly, flipping onto his stomach. Akira yanked the collar of his shirt down, exposing his nape, before laying down a calculated kiss….

“Ohhh,” Goro practically melted at his touch. “Akira…!”

After ensuring that Goro would have a bright kiss mark on the back of his neck, Akira sat back up to admire his work.

“This brings my Survey Of Goro’s Weak Spots to a close,” he said matter-of-factly. “More will be added pending further review.”

Goro couldn’t help snorting. He rolled back over, meeting his fiance’s gaze.

“I don’t know what to do with you.”

“Oh, I can offer a few suggestions…!”

Akira leaned in for another kiss, and Goro was happy to oblige him. He reached up, feeling the warmth of Akira’s face, the softness of his skin… his hands finally settled on his partner’s nape, fingers tangled in jet-black curls. Their tongues brushed against each other, always gently; there would be other times for playing rough. Tonight, Goro wanted nothing more than to slowly, gently, surrender himself to his partner’s touch.

Akira pulled back to catch his breath.

“Do you remember the first time we did this?” he asked after a while, voice low. “You were so nervous, it was adorable. Even the lightest tease made you blush and squirm.”

“And now look at me,” said Goro, smiling coyly. “I could have you begging at my feet if I really wanted.”

“Hoo,” Akira exhaled, “I love it when you talk dirty, babe.”

“Anyway, why do you ask?”

“Well, I was thinking back to our first time, and remembered how great it felt to get each other off like that…” said Akira, “So I thought of something new we could try.”

“Oh?”

“Have you ever heard the phrase six-nine?”

“.... not in reference to sex, no?”

“Ooh, it’s your lucky day.” Akira grinned. “69ing is when you both blow each other at the same time.”

“That seems… logistically challenging,” said Goro, frowning. “How would that even work…?”

“Wanna find out?”

Goro considered this for a moment before he finally nodded, expression brightening.

“Alright, I’m up for it.”

“Let’s see…” Akira shifted a little, “Let’s try it with both of us lying on our sides for now. That’ll probably be easiest… Oh, and we should get our pants out of the way.”

“Might help.”

The sound of unhooking belts and unzipping flies filled the room as the two raced to remove the rest of their clothes. With that done, Akira took a minute to re-orient himself, lying down with his head at Goro’s waist; Goro found himself face-to-face with his partner’s cock.

“This feels ridiculous,” said Goro.

“Here, use my thigh as a pillow.” Akira bent his leg a bit so that Goro could lay his head on it, and Goro followed his example. Akira lay on his partner’s thigh and sighed contentedly. “Ahh, Goro, your thighs are so _soft_ …!”

“I’m… glad?”

Akira kissed the tip of Goro’s cock gently; he jumped.

“Ready when you are, babe. Remember the safeword?”

“ _Water lilies.”_ Goro carefully took his partner’s cock in hand; he could feel Akira shiver in his grip. “Er, should we go on three, or--?”

Akira didn’t give him time to count; he leaned forward and closed his lips over the head. Goro let out a startled squeak.

“Akira--!”

“Mm,” Akira bobbed his head slightly, as if wordlessly urging him on--or was he issuing a challenge? If so, Goro had no intention of losing. He turned to his own task, his partner’s cock pulsing eagerly in front of him. Goro closed his eyes leaned forward, lips parting; he let it fill his mouth…

“Mm--!”

Akira inhaled next to him, lapping at his cock--!

“Ah--!”

Goro almost lost focus, the familiar warmth of Akira’s mouth washing over him--but he did his best to stay on task, dragging his tongue in circles around the head. Feeling his partner twitching with his every motion, coupled with Akira’s own sweet, merciless tongue…!

_God, this is… this is really…!_

He tightened his grip on Akira’s cock and pulled it toward him, taking it as deep as he comfortably could. Incensed, Akira answered him by sucking gently at it, increasing in strength as Goro’s helpless moans grew louder.

“Akira--!”

He had to pull back to say it, and even then his partner’s name came out half-formed.

“Good?” Akira asked, releasing him.

“ _God_ , yeah,” said Goro, “I wasn’t expecting this to work so well, but--ah!” Akira interrupted him with a kiss at the very tip. “--It’s really--!” Akira’s lips parted, and Goro’s cock slipped between them. “--Are you going to let me finish a sentence?!”

Akira released him and shook his head, smiling. Goro frowned back at him.

“What’s the point of asking if you won’t even let me finish the answer?”

“There’s no point, really. I just love watching you try.”

Akira leaned forward and swallowed Goro’s cock before he could get another word in.

“You’re--the worst--!”

Even as he said it, Goro’s hips bucked involuntarily, pushing his cock that much deeper into him. Akira’s mouth felt so damnably _warm_ ; the pressure just perfect--he couldn’t get enough. For a moment everything else seemed to disappear, and Akira’s tongue was the only thing he could think about.

So, Goro was more than a little disappointed when his partner released him again. He let out a deflated sigh.

“You stopped…”

“Go on,” said Akira. He dragged his tongue along his partner’s shaft, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Ah, sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” said Akira. “But I’m not starting up again until that dick’s in your mouth.”

“Jerk--!”

Akira moved his hips slightly, pushing his cock toward him.

“I’m waiting, dear.”

Goro took hold of Akira’s cock again, giving it a meaning squeeze before stuffing it back into his mouth.

“Ohhhh, _there’s_ a good boy…” Akira swirled his tongue around the head of Goro’s cock again, tickling it _just right--!_

_Fuck--!_

Totally lost in pleasure, Goro had overestimated how much space he had. The tip of Akira’s cock hit the back of his mouth, and his reflexes kicked in. He withdrew with a splutter, coughing.

“You alright, babe?”

“Fine… just didn’t expect…”

“Zoned out a little?”

“Yeah…”

Akira grinned.

“It was kinda hot, though. Watching you choke on it.”

“Oh for _fuck’s sake_ \--!” Goro couldn’t help flushing.

“Here, I’ll reward you for being so good. I’ve been practicing a new trick.”

Akira sucked him back in, slowly; he could feel a slight pulse as his cock hit the back of Akira’s throat, and then--the soft touch of lips at the base--!?

“Akira--?!” Goro leaned forward to visually confirm what he was feeling. Akira’s nose was buried in his pubes; his cock entirely out of sight. “Oh, god, it’s--! How is it that far in--?!”

Even so, it was an incredible feeling; Goro quickly became conscious of little other than the warmth around him; the slight strain he could feel as Akira struggled to contain it all…!

_Fuck, that’s hot…! I feel awful for even thinking it, but… jesus…_

Akira drew back and released him, taking a few deep breaths.

“I told you,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ve been practicing.”

“On _what?!”_ Goro asked, a little horrified.

“Oh, a little something I bought special.” Akira grinned. “The sex store in Akihabara had a dildo that was juuuuust about the same size as your dick. So, in case you were wondering what I’ve been up to while you’re in class…”

“That’s…” Goro’s cheeks burned just thinking about it; picturing what sorts of ‘practice’ his fiance might have indulged when he had the house to himself. Wondering if he’d spent those hours fantasizing about him, dildo halfway down his--! “Still, though. How did you not choke…?”

“Practice makes perfect. What’d you think, babe?”

“I’m…” Now that he’d had time to consider it, he was more horrified than anything--and yet, morbidly impressed. And more than a little aroused. “I don’t know what to say… It felt incredible, but I can’t help worrying about you. I don’t want you to hurt yourself on my account.”

“I’m not going to hurt myself doing this, I promise,” said Akira. He winked. “I think I only have the stamina for one of those a night, though.”

“I’m honestly impressed you held it for so long…”

Akira leaned in, taking Goro’s cock in his hand.

“Shall we continue where we left off?”

“Sure,” Goro couldn’t help smiling. “After you… ah!”

Akira practically devoured his partner’s cock; Goro, struggling to keep focus, closed his lips over the head and sucked. Akira grunted in response, pausing just slightly to let Goro work at him--to let him believe he’d gained the upper hand--before resuming his task with twice the enthusiasm. Goro almost wanted to scream, it felt so good--he couldn’t manage much more than a couple of distracted kisses while Akira went to town on him. He worried whether he was doing enough in return, but Akira didn’t seem to mind; in fact, reducing Goro to a whimpering, trembling mess seemed to be exactly his intention.

Goro jumped as he felt a new sensation added to the mix; it took him a bit to realize it was Akira’s thumb against his balls.

“Ack--!”

Goro released Akira’s cock, now wholly unable to focus on it--not with Akira playing with him, teasing him--!

“That’s--! Not fair--!”

Akira let Goro’s cock slip from his mouth just long enough to respond:

“Mm, we’ve been together _how_ long? You know I don’t play fair.”

“You _jerk--!”_

But Akira was already back between his legs, taking Goro’s cock almost fully into his mouth. Unable to muster the will to resist anymore, Goro simply gave himself over to Akira’s whims. His own mouth now unoccupied, he let his helpless voice spill out:

_“Ohhhh…!!”_

Akira hummed in response, pleased with himself for having pushed his fiance so far. His hands began to migrate a little; a couple of fingers wandering back to Goro’s ass…

Goro jumped a little at their touch.

_That’s not fair at all…  jesus…!_

Akira began to massage him, gently, and Goro was powerless to do much more than writhe in his grip. His voice tumbled from his mouth in needy, desperate moans; every so often he was able convince his useless lips to form a name:

_“Akira…!!”_

Hearing his name like that, Akira felt all the more incensed to work harder. He sucked hungrily, passionately, letting Goro’s cock fill him to the brim and throwing his cares to the wind. Luckily, he didn’t have to work at this pace for much longer--Goro finally came with an exhausted whine, spilling himself all over Akira’s face. Akira licked his lips; as his partner recovered, he did his best to lap up the spill.

“Oh…” Goro said, at length. It took him a bit longer to regain command of words, “Akira, that was…”

“Good?” said Akira.

“Yes… just… wow…” Goro couldn’t help smiling. “It was _amazing_ …!”

Akira had to pause for a moment; the utterly satisfied look on his partner's face made his heart pinch a little.

“Glad you liked it,” he said finally, smiling back at him. “I’ll give you a bit to recover… and then, if you’re still up for it, I would _love_ for you to finish me off.”

Goro laughed feebly.

“Of course I will.”

After a few minutes Goro felt ready to move again; he re-adjusted himself and took Akira’s cock in his hand. Akira twitched a little bit, but looked back at him expectantly.

“Take as much time as you need, babe,” he said. “But, ah… not _too_ long, alright?”

Goro smiled. Much as he liked the idea of making Akira wait for it-- _beg_ for it--he didn’t want to disappoint. He opened his mouth, and Akira’s cock slid readily inside.

“Mm…!” Akira hummed a little; his cock pulsed in Goro’s grip. “Just like that…”

As Goro set to work, he found himself thinking back to the first couple of times they’d done this--the first time he’d nervously offered to give Akira a blowjob back in his dormroom in France. It had been awkward, sloppy; nothing like the more practiced hand he had now. More than once he’d had to stop, spluttering, reaching for something to wipe his mouth on. But the look on Akira’s face afterwards, the look of _trust_ in his eyes… he didn’t think he would ever forget it.

When they first met six years ago, he wouldn’t even have been comfortable with the _thought_ of a dick in his mouth--much less enjoying something like that. Sex in general had always been a distant “maybe someday” or “probably never”. Meeting Akira had changed his life in more ways than one. Happily sucking his partner off, savoring the warmth of Akira’s cock between his lips--the person he was now would have been altogether unrecognizable to the lonely young man who’d chanced upon that cafe in Paris.

“Goro--!”

Akira’s voice calling his name finally snapped him from his thoughts.

“God, Goro, I’m so close…!”

Goro already knew, of course: the way his fiance’s hips began to buck, eagerly; begging for Goro to finish him. It was easy to tell when his partner was about to climax, and it was just as well. He withdrew as Akira started to come, but--something warm and wet hit his cheek.

“Ack--?!”

“Goro--?”

Goro leaned back, throwing up his hands to shield his face. Akira’s cum splattered everywhere--the bed, his legs; flecks even made it to Goro’s arms and hair.

“It’s--it’s just shooting out!!”

“What--!?”

By this time Akira’s climax had died down a little. Goro rolled onto his back, giggling; he couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of it all. Akira sat up a little to survey the damage--and clapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from waking the apartment complex with his laughter.

He hadn’t come any more or less than usual, but the blast radius was astounding.

“Oh my god… It’s never done that before,” he said finally. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine,” said Goro. “It got in my hair, though…”

“Yikes, sorry…”

Goro giggled again.

“I didn’t know it could shoot that far.”

Now Akira was laughing.

“Me either… It’s kind of impressive, actually.”

“Here,” Goro sat up, “Let me get some tissues…”

“Tissues? I think what _you_ need is a shower,” said Akira. “And, uh… we should probably wash the blanket too.”

The two of them looked down at the cum-splattered bed, and then back at each other. Goro snickered to himself before dissolving into another fit of giggles, and Akira’s voice quickly joined his.

“Happy anniversary, babe.”

“Same to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [HERE](https://privatter.net/i/3190646)! (Requires a twitter account to view, sorry! thanks for nothing, tumblr)
> 
> I'd originally wanted to wait to post this on actual January 5th but.... im impatient lmao


	20. Conjectures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Goro cuddle up after their steamy evening, but Goro's mind keeps wandering back to the case...

Cleanup went fairly quickly; tissues took care of most of the cum, and the two of them took a brief shower together to wash away anything they couldn’t wipe up. They had to put the cum-splattered blanket in the laundry, but a clean one was already waiting for them in the linen closet. After drying off and freshly making the bed, Akira and Goro climbed in and cuddled up together.

Goro let out a contented sigh, wrapping his arms around Akira’s back. Warm, clean, and completely satisfied, he wouldn’t have minded if they spent each future anniversary together like this. Dinner, a wild fuck, then some time to curl up under a blanket… He almost wanted to set their wedding date for sometime in winter, so that they could keep marking their anniversary with a warm snuggle when January 5th no longer held as much meaning…

Ah, who was he kidding?

Now that he knew for certain which day they’d met--how could he ever forget it? They’d just have to mark twice as many anniversaries once they tied the knot.

Akira laid a gentle kiss on Goro’s cheek.

“Good fuck?” he asked.

“ _Really_ good,” said Goro. “I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime--that six-nine thing…”

“Nice,” Akira grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that, babe. Anything you wanna try differently next time?”

“I’m not sure…” Something suddenly occurred to him. “Ah--we forgot about the restraints.”

“The restraints--?” Akira remembered what Goro was referring to. “Aw, damn it…!”

“And after you wanted to try tying our wrists together so badly…”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Akira smiled. “It would’ve been too hard to work around for 69ing.”

“Yes, that would have been a challenge...”

“Besides, I don’t need to be handcuffed to you, babe. We’re always connected by two silver rings.”

Goro flushed brightly.

“Six years, and I still have no idea how you do it,” he grumbled.

“Do what?”

“Toss off those effortless one-liners!” Goro pouted. “It’s infuriating. I never know what to say back to you.”

“You say that like you can’t do it too,” said Akira, grinning. “I seem to recall something about the chemical symbol for silver?”

“I had to practice that one for weeks…”

“And every time we play our thief game, when your dirty talk makes me want to scream?”

“That’s different. It’s easier when I’m playing a character who would talk like that…”

“Mm-hm. Horny Goro would beg to differ. Well, he’d beg for a lot of things--!”

“Oh, _stop._ ”

Goro drew closer to Akira, giving him a playful squeeze. Akira giggled a little and nuzzled his fiance’s hair.

Even as they lay there together, reveling in each other’s closeness, Goro’s thoughts couldn’t help wandering back toward work. He’d been able to keep his mind off it during sex, thankfully--but now that he had his mind more or less under control, his worries percolated back in. The fact remained that they’d made little progress on the case; if they kept returning such poor results, the force could decide he and Akira were no longer needed. The one last barrier between the police and his fiance could crumble…

Akira seemed to notice Goro’s change in mood; he sat up, leaning on his elbow.

“Something wrong, babe?”

“Ah, just thinking about work… sorry…”

Akira shook his head.

“It’s fine. What’s on your mind?”

“I was just thinking…” he paused to gather his words. “I think I have an idea of what’s going on here, but… I don’t like it.”

“Well, spit it out.”

“I think someone in the police might be helping Arsene,” said Goro. “No… I’m certain of it.”

Akira stared at him.

“Not you, of course,” Goro seemed to realize the implication of what he’d said. “Someone else. Someone familiar with the schedules of the station, or who at least has access to them…”

“Would someone in the police really…?”

“Think about it,” said Goro. “How else would he have known we’d moved the sword?”

“Oh…” Akira furrowed his brow. “I didn’t even think about that…”

“Arsene didn’t bother with Okumura tower,” Goro went on. “He came to the station at a time when the cameras were down for a scheduled maintenance. He went straight to the evidence locker; he even knew in advance which one to open. He was able to leave without being detected, and removed the bugs and tracking devices before he left the area. He was also able to worm his way past all of the SIU’s preparations in the previous incident. For Arsene to know all of that… he would need to have an informant in the police, or maybe even be an employee of the police himself.”

“Right,” said Akira. “So, then… what do we do?”

“At the moment, I’m not sure there’s anything we _can_ do,” said Goro. “If he has access to that kind of information, he’s untouchable. He’ll be able to track our every move--”

“-- _If_ we keep working with the police,” Akira interrupted him.

Goro frowned.

“... What do you mean, ‘if’?”

“To keep him from getting the jump on us, we could take our work offsite,” said Akira. “We could set up some kind of trap, maybe a plan similar to yours--using a fake piece of art as bait. Every part of the job would need to be under _our_ control, and if we work remotely, we’d be able to do it without him seeing what we’re up to.”

“It seems risky…” said Goro, “We don’t even know for certain what would work as bait. Say we get his attention--then what?”

“Then we dress up as rival thieves and take him by surprise. The last thing he’s expecting is to be upstaged!”

_“No,”_ said Goro simply. “Also, I’m divorcing you.”

“Relax, I was kidding.”

“Anyway… It’s risky, but I’ll admit you have a point,” said Goro. “Setting up some kind of trap may be the only option we have; while I can’t say I approve of the use of subterfuge--”

“--says the guy who 3D-printed a fake Bust of Nefertiti for a public exhibit,” Akira interrupted him, grinning. Goro flushed angrily and threw a pillow in his partner’s face.

“Are you _ever_ going to let me live that down??”

“Nope!” Akira laughed as he put the pillow back on the bed. “Making fun of you is so much better!”

_“Anyway,”_ said Goro, visibly ruffled, “Without help from police, this will be a massive undertaking--not to mention expensive. I don’t suppose you have any ideas for where to start…?”

“Well, I have a potential hideout in mind already,” said Akira, winking. “Give me a few days to pin down the details, and I’ll have our foolproof plan ready for you.”

“Alright…” Goro wasn’t sure what Akira was planning--dreaded it, actually--but after a second embarrassing defeat, he was ready to try anything that could give them the upper hand. “Just… promise me you won’t do anything crazy.”

“Aw, come on, you know I can’t promise that~!”

“Then promise me you won’t have any surprises this time.”

“ _That_ much I can do,” said Akira. He brought Goro’s hand to his lips. “You’ll be in on the grand plan, so there won’t be any surprises.”

“There had better not be.”

Akira leaned back on the pillows, smiling to himself.

“This time you’ll _really_ be my brilliant, sexy accomplice--!”

“Shut--!”

But Akira reached around to Goro’s nape and pulled his fiance into a long, slow kiss. Goro relented, the fatigue from the evening finally setting in.

At the very least, they’d have a few days before Arsene was likely to make another move. That would give them time to iron out the details--and would the Niijimas be in on this plan? Goro didn’t really have reason to suspect either of them, but at the moment, anyone in the police could be a potential suspect…

No, the Niijimas didn’t strike him as twisted enough to be running the investigation on their own crimes. At the very least, he’d known the older Niijima for long enough that he didn’t doubt her dedication to her work.

_So that leaves… the entire rest of the police._

Goro wanted to keep running through suspects, but as Akira’s lips parted, tongue slipping into his mouth, his train of thought disappeared entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't get to write this scene until fairly late in the game (I'd originally intended it to be a flashback at the end, but decided to put it back where it belongs chronologically) so trying not to reveal everything at once/not duplicate information I give explicitly later has been a challenge... 
> 
> Oh, also: the fic broke 50k words at the start of the weekend, and there's still more to write.... pray for me


	21. Informational Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto receives an odd... invitation?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, haha... there was gonna be an illust to go with this chapter but I couldn't get it to look right no matter what I did, so i gave up orz. Ah well! there will be more art later

One January afternoon, Makoto Niijima returned to her desk to find a single playing card lying innocuously on top of her laptop: the queen of hearts. She picked it up, frowning, and turned it over. On the other side was scrawled the word “Leblanc,” a Tokyo address, and a time and date: 3PM the coming Friday.

“Oh, you got one too?” Makoto looked up to see her older sister approaching. The elder Niijima took another playing card from her files to show her sister: ace of spades, with the same address and date.

“Who are they from?” asked Makoto.

“No idea,” said Niijima. “But I know where that restaurant is. It’s down in Sangen-jaya.”

“So it’s a restaurant… Are we being asked on a date?”

“No…” said Niijima. “Actually, I think I know who sent these…”

* * *

The Niijima sisters arrived at Leblanc together that Friday afternoon, both uneasy about what awaited them. The cafe was mostly empty, save for a bearded man working at the counter. He waved to them as they came in.

“You must be the Niijima sisters,” he said. Makoto froze.

“How did you know--?”

“Akira told me you were coming,” said Sojiro. “He’s upstairs waiting for you. Would you like some coffee? I’ll bring it up to you when it’s done.”

“I’ll have the house blend, thank you,” said Niijima. The two women headed to the back of the cafe and cautiously walked upstairs.

Upstairs at Leblanc was a modest attic, furnished with some shelves and tables that had seen better days. A dusty-looking bed sat in one corner, a workbench in another. Sitting at the table across from them was none other than Akira Kurusu, his fiance standing at his side.

“Good afternoon,” said Goro pleasantly. “Glad you could make it.”

“What’s going on?” asked Niijima, folding her arms. “Playing cards? A secret meeting? Explain yourselves.”

“I’ll get right to the point,” said Goro. “We believe someone in the police may be working with Arsene. From here on, it may be best to hold our investigation team meetings offsite.”

Niijima and Makoto stared at him.

“How did you come to that conclusion…?” Niijima began.

“It’s obvious if you think about it,” said Goro. “How else would Arsene have known we’d moved the sword to the police station--known exactly which locker to open? How would he have known the target was bugged?”

The Niijimas looked at each other before returning their gaze to Goro.

“So, then,” said Makoto, “Do you know who did it?”

“Not a clue,” said Akira, “But I have a plan for how we’re going to find out. Have a seat, Niijima-san. Makoto-san.”

The two women sat down on the rickety-looking chairs that had been laid out for them.

“We already have an idea of what kind of thief we're dealing with,” said Goro. “Namely, someone looking for personal gain. Nothing has turned up at museums, so we don’t think this person plans to follow through with what their calling cards said they’d do. It’s also highly unlikely they’re trying to sell the art they take.”

“What do you mean?” said Niijima.

“Stolen art has no resale value,” said Akira, “Imagine this: you steal the Mona Lisa, then two years later you try to sell it to a gallery in Italy. What do the gallery owners do? They recognize the Mona Lisa immediately and call the police. The more famous the piece, the harder it would be to sell it--especially if the theft makes the news. If a high-profile thief like Arsene is involved, whoever’s doing this clearly isn’t looking to make money on it.”

“So if there’s no possible financial gain, why _are_ they doing it, if you’d care to enlighten me?” said Niijima.

“Because they can,” said Akira. “They want to grow their own collection, and they’re rich and powerful enough to believe they can get away with whatever they want.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Makoto. “Is there anyone in the police who fits that profile…?”

“Several higher-ups collect art, I think,” said Niijima, “We could try searching their houses to see if anything turns up…?”

“If our suspect has connections in the police, we shouldn’t do anything to let them know we’re on to them,” said Goro. “They could move the stolen work, or worse--dissolve the investigation altogether if we get too close for comfort.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” said Makoto.

Akira’s smirk widened into a grin.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this…?” Niijima sighed.

“Here’s the plan,” said Akira. “It’s a similar plan to Goro’s from France, but way more elaborate. To catch Arsene, we have to be able to do this without police oversight--to control every part of the job ourselves. That includes the victim and the target.”

“So… you’re saying…” said Makoto.

“We have one of our guys pose as an art collector, and brag about having acquired an extremely rare and valuable piece. The kind of thing that would be too good for our suspect to resist--but unknown to our thief, it would be a very convincing fake.”

“I get it,” said Makoto. “If the victim is our guy, he won’t go to the police when he gets the card--he’ll come to us. And if the art is fake, we won’t be endangering something priceless…”

“Exactly.”

“Okay…” said Niijima. “And after that?”

“Then we can hide out in his apartment and snag Arsene the night of the heist.”

“Alright,” said Niijima. “Say we arrest Arsene. Then what? If his patron really is working in the police, wouldn’t they be able to help him escape?”

“I have a plan for that,” said Akira, “Notice how I said ‘snag’ and not ‘arrest.’ But we can get to that part later. This was just an introductory meeting.”

“There you have it,” said Goro. “Any questions so far?”

“Hold on,” said Niijima. “For this plan to work--without relying on police oversight or funding--we would need far more resources than we have.”

“Thought you might say that,” said Akira. “We’re going to need a team of people we can trust. As it happens, I know exactly who to ask. Hopefully you’ll be able to meet a few of them at our next meetup.”

“Speaking of,” said Goro, “Going forward, we’ll need some way to keep this a secret--to make sure our plans can’t be discovered.”

“Uh-huh,” said Akira, “And that’s why, starting now, we’re all getting codenames.”

“.... _really?”_ Niijima groaned.

“You’ll be calling me ‘Joker’,” said Akira. “My lovely fiance is ‘Ace’. Makoto, you’ll be Queen. And Niijima will be… Spades.”

“What kind of name is--?”

“I’ll send you both the link to our private calendar and messaging channel,” said Goro, “Your codenames are your usernames, and you’ll be asked to set passwords. In addition, I’d like to ask that you refrain from using these resources on shared or work-issued devices.”

“You’ve really left no stone unturned… despite the tacky nicknames, I’m impressed,” said Niijima. “Kurusu-kun, Akechi-kun, you’ve clearly done your homework here.”

Akira beamed, and Goro couldn’t help smiling to himself proudly.

“I just have one concern,” Niijima continued. “It could take months to get Arsene’s attention with this plan--if at all. How long do you plan on keeping this up…?”

“As long as it takes,” said Akira. “But it’s not as though we’ll just set up the fake collector and wait for something to happen. We’ll be doing more than a little targeted advertising in the coming months. I have no doubt we’ll catch his fancy.”

“Well…” Niijima sighed, “Barring any other options… I suppose we don’t have a choice.”

“I have to admit, I’m curious to see how it turns out,” said Makoto. “Count me in.”

“Excellent.” Akira leaned forward in his seat. “Ladies, welcome to the Wildcards.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rubs hands together gleefully* are y'aLL READY for THIS


	22. The Artist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young man sits at a trendy cafe in Aoyama, awaiting his appointed meeting time...

At a trendy cafe on Omotesando boulevard, a lanky young man took a seat at the counter by the window to wait for his lunch appointment. He was a little early; setting down his tea, he took a pen and sketchpad from his bag and scanned the small plaza outside for suitable subjects. Settling on someone who he guessed wouldn’t leave for a while, he began to sketch their profile with quick, light strokes. Old pop music floated down from the speakers overhead, sprinkled with the murmur of conversation amid the other customers.

The artist looked up as the bell on the door jingled, and a pair of tall, handsome young men strode inside.

“We couldn’t meet somewhere closer…?”

“Oh hush, this was closer to my friend’s place.”

One of the two, with curly black hair, looked up and took notice of the man at the window.

“Yusuke!” he called out, waving. The artist jumped.

“Oh, hello Akira!” Yusuke waved back to him, and the two men approached him. Yusuke recognized one as an old college friend, Akira Kurusu--he was the one who’d asked Yusuke out to coffee. The other person Yusuke didn’t recognize: a delicately handsome face framed by a curtain of almond hair.

“Goro, this is Yusuke Kitagawa,” said Akira, gesturing toward Yusuke. “He’s an incredibly talented artist who I met in college. Yusuke, this is my fiance, Detective Goro Akechi.”

“Charmed,” said Goro, extending a hand.

“Good to meet you.” Yusuke shook Goro's hand lightly. “And--Akira, you’re engaged?”

“Mm-hm,” Akira practically beamed. “A little over a year now. Guess it’s been a while since we last saw each other, Yusuke.”

“Indeed… we have much to catch up on.” Yusuke gestured toward the counter, “Why don’t you get yourselves some coffee and have a seat?”

“Of course,” said Goro. “Akira, do you want anything?”

“Just my usual is fine.”

“Alright. I’ll see what they can do.”

As Goro headed over to the counter, Akira turned his attention back to Yusuke.

“Handsome, isn’t he?” he said.

“Radiant,” Yusuke agreed, watching as Goro stepped up to place his order. “Such delicate features… I’d like to ask him to model for me sometime.”

“I would _gladly_ pay you to draw him,” said Akira, a glimmer in his eyes, “But that’s not why I asked you here today. I need to commission something a little bigger than that.”

Yusuke raised an eyebrow.

“Oh…?”

“But first, I have to ask,” said Akira. “Do you still have the original _Sayuri?”_

“The one we recovered from Madarame? Yes, it’s in storage at my flat… I don’t have the heart to display it.”

“That’s alright,” said Akira. “I’m glad you still have it, because I have a big project for you.”

By that time Goro had returned; he set a mug of foamy coffee down in front of his fiance before taking a seat with his own. Akira turned to him.

“Goro, have you ever heard of the _Sayuri?”_

“Hm…” Goro paused to think about it. “I don’t believe I have. What is it?”

“It’s a very famous painting,” said Akira. “Yusuke can tell you.”

“Indeed,” said Yusuke, “It was a portrait of a woman painted by my former master, Ichiryusai Madarame. It’s most famous for the woman’s longing gaze, and the mystery of ‘what’ she is gazing at is one of the greatest unsolved questions of the art world. The painting was said to have disappeared many years ago. At least, that’s the story the public knows.”

“Oh?” Goro tilted his head.

“In reality…” Yusuke grimaced. “ _Sayuri_ was painted by my mother as a self-portrait. She was a sickly woman, and created the painting near the end of her life. Madarame was her teacher as well, and he promised that he would help make _Sayuri_ famous--but he kept telling her it didn’t look quite finished yet, that with a few more adjustments it would go down in history as her most accomplished painting. She succumbed to her illness before she could complete it, and instead of keeping his promise, Madarame altered the painting and showed the finished work under his own name.”

“That’s awful…” said Goro.

“Madarame cared for me from the time I was young,” said Yusuke. “He was the one who encouraged me to pursue the arts--but in reality, his fame and talent were nothing but illusions. He’d been taking his students’ ideas and outright passing their paintings off as his own. I was forced to hand my work over to him as well, once my talent had bloomed to his liking…”

“And the _Sayuri?”_ said Goro.

“He told the world that it had disappeared,” said Yusuke, “That a thief had come and stolen it right out of a gallery showing. But I have Akira to thank for helping uncover the truth.”

Goro looked at Akira quizzically.

“It was Akira’s insistence that I confront Madarame about stealing my work that led to my discovering his secret,” Yusuke continued. “The _Sayuri_ hadn’t disappeared at all. Madarame kept it in a storage room at his atelier--along with hundreds of copies that he’d made over the years, selling them to gullible collectors with the assurance that they were genuine.”

“What a reprehensible man,” said Goro.

“The two of us got the police involved, there was a huge investigation, and Madarame ended up in jail for fraud,” said Akira. “That just about sums it up.”

“Mm,” Yusuke nodded, taking a sip of his tea.

“You certainly had a busy life before we met,” said Goro pointedly, aiming his comment at Akira.

“Well, what can I say?” Akira shrugged. “When I see someone suffering… I can’t just sit there and do nothing.”

“Indeed,” said Yusuke, “I owe Akira a considerable debt for all he did for me.”

“Well, I’ve got an opportunity for you to pay me back,” said Akira.

“Oh?”

Akira leaned in closer, glancing aside to make sure there wasn’t anyone nearby.

“You’re comfortable working with oils, right?”

“.... yes?”

“Do you think you could make us a convincing copy of the _Sayuri?”_

Yusuke frowned. He looked from Akira to Goro, then to Akira again.

“What’s this all about?”

“We need a painting for something,” said Akira. “More specifically, we need it for bait--the more famous, the better. But we don’t want to put the original in any danger, so we’d like to commission a copy.”

“Bait…? As in, for a thief to steal?” Yusuke was even more puzzled. “Why? Everyone knows Madarame was selling copies. Why would a thief take any interest--?”

“Yeah, but nobody knows _you_ have the real one,” said Akira, smiling. “You know. The one the police had x-rayed to determine whether it was genuine. The answer to the mystery of Sayuri’s gaze, hidden beneath layers of paint… It’s a revelation that would rock the art world.”

“I wish you would be more specific about what you plan to do with it, Akira.”

“Not here,” said Akira, glancing around again. “If you’re in, we’ll tell you the rest somewhere more private. Oh, and we’ll be sure to pay you upfront, as well as a little extra for your time. Name your price.”

“Hm…” Yusuke considered this. “You’ve piqued my interest, I’ll give you that much. You always did have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Here,” said Akira, taking something from his pocket. “If you’re in, come to this address at the specified date. We’ll brief you on the rest then.”

Akira held out what appeared to be a regular playing card: the king of hearts. Yusuke took it and flipped it over, where an address, time, and date were scrawled in black marker. Yusuke returned his gaze to Akira, wondering what was on his friend’s mind.

“Hope to see you there, King,” said Akira, smiling.

Goro drained the rest of his coffee, setting the mug down with a clink.

“Akira, we should get going,” he said. “We need to be at Okumura Tower in twenty minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” said Akira, lifting his own mug to his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to meet on such short notice, Yusuke.”

“It wasn’t a problem,” Yusuke responded. “It was good to see you after so long. We should certainly do this again sometime.”

“You have my number, so feel free to get in touch anytime,” said Akira. He stood up, finishing off his coffee. “Do we have to bus ourselves?”

“I saw a place to put used mugs,” Goro answered.

“Alright then.” Akira turned back to Yusuke. “See you around!”

“Indeed. And it was nice meeting you, Akechi-san.”

“Likewise.” Goro smiled pleasantly, and Yusuke could see immediately why Akira was so taken with him. “We’ll be seeing more of each other, I’m sure.”

“Oh, and you’re for sure invited to our wedding,” Akira added, “We’ll be sending out invitations as soon as we get a date.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” said Yusuke with a smile. “See you, Akira.”

The two of them went to drop off their mugs before leaving the cafe, chatting as they went. Yusuke watched them through the window until they disappeared from view.

_They make quite a pair_ , he found himself thinking. _I’d like to capture them in a drawing sometime…_

He turned the playing card absentmindedly in his hands as he considered his next sketch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spend a lot of time writing from Goro's perspective, so I realized this is the first time I got to examine someone else's first impressions of him, ufufufu...
> 
> Also, during L&J's run I got a lot of comments asking about what the rest of the PT were up to, and whether Akira was still friends with them in this AU or not, so u can sort of consider this an answer to that! I won't get to go into this much detail with all of them tho lmao


	23. The Sponsor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without police funding, this plan will be an expensive undertaking. Luckily, Akira knows exactly who to ask.

“So in French, to say ‘kiss me,’ it’s _‘baise-moi’.”_

“Why are you telling me this right now?” Goro sighed. The elevator to the top of Okumura Tower could not possibly be climbing any slower.

“Oh, no reason,” Akira grinned. “You always did say you wanted help learning French.”

“That was six years ago, and can we talk about this later?”

“One more?” said Akira. Goro glanced at the steadily-rising floor number.

“Make it quick.”

“When you sat down across from me that day… it was a _coup de foutre_. Love at first sight.”

“Why do I get the distinct feeling that you’re pulling my leg…?”

By that time the elevator mercifully arrived at the top floor. Akira and Goro stepped out, and Goro inserted their card key into the pad next to the door to the president’s suite.

They found Haru Okumura in her office--it had been her father’s, once, and the oak desk and leather chair almost seemed too big for her. She spun around to face them as they approached, and they bowed to her respectfully.

“Okumura-san, sorry again about what happened,” said Goro.

“No need to apologize; you’ve done more than enough,” said Haru. “What was it you wanted to meet with me about?”

“We, er, have a proposal for you,” said Akira.

“Before we start,” said Goro. “This conversation is strictly off the record. We ask that you do not repeat anything we say here to anyone, especially not the police.”

Haru looked quizzically from Goro to Akira.

“I hope you aren’t about to ask me to do something illegal.”

“Not at all,” said Akira. “If we play our cards right, we’ll actually be _helping_ the police in the end. But we have to be mum about it.”

“Okay…” Haru didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded. “Go on.”

“To be brief, we believe someone in the police may have aided Arsene,” said Goro. “That’s how the sword managed to disappear from police custody. In order to catch Arsene--and his accomplices--we will need to be able to operate without police oversight.”

“I see,” said Haru.

“I’ve already got a plan for how,” said Akira. “The problem is, without any help from the police, we’re going to have to pay for the preparations out of pocket--and it’s not the cheapest idea I’ve ever had.”

“So you came to me to ask for financial aid,” said Haru.

“Bingo,” said Akira.

“Might I ask what you plan to use my money for?” Haru asked.

“Fair question,” said Akira. “At the very least, we’re going to need a couple of months’ rent on an apartment, some art to go in it--including a special commission, the exact price of which I can get for you--and a couple of miscellaneous overhead costs that shouldn’t amount to much.”

“ _And_ compensation for the other people who’ve generously volunteered their time and skills to help us,” Goro added.

“Alright,” said Haru. “I’m not sure I see how this all fits together.”

Goro glanced at Akira, who scanned the room as if to confirm they couldn’t be overheard.

“Okay,” said Akira. “The basic plan is that we set up a fake art collector with a fake masterpiece, then lure Arsene to steal it. If the art collector and apartment are ours, not only will we not have to involve the police--!”

“--You won’t come under public scrutiny for using fake art as bait,” Haru finished for him. “I heard what happened at the Louvre some years ago. They were charging money for tickets to a fake exhibit.”

“Exactly,” said Akira. Goro folded his arms, but didn’t say anything.

“I think I see what you’re getting at,” said Haru. “You’re right in thinking this will be an expensive plan… The apartment alone won’t come cheaply, much less the art. If you’re trying to pass an amateur off as a genuine collector, simple thrift store finds won’t do.”

Akira and Goro nodded. Haru looked down at her teacup while she considered this, as if searching for the answers in her own reflection.

“... alright,” she said. “I’ll help you--on the condition that you make the return of my sword a top priority.”

“Of course,” said Goro. “As soon as we apprehend the culprit, we will see to it first thing that the sword is located and returned.”

“Now that you’re on board, take this.” Akira took another playing card from his pocket, this one the ace of diamonds. “We have to hold meetings in secret, and this card has the date and location of our next meeting. We’d love it if you could block off some time to come.”

Haru took the card and turned it over, scanning the address.

“Leblanc… oh, that’s Sakura-san’s cafe, isn’t it?”

“The one and only,” said Akira.

“Alright then. I’ll be sure to pencil this into my schedule.”

“Thank you,” said Akira, smiling. “Welcome to the team, Diamonds.”

“Diamonds… is that my secret codename?” Haru returned Akira’s smile. “How cute.”

“It’s to ensure secrecy,” said Goro. “We’ll fill in more details at the next meeting.”

“Understood,” said Haru. “Now, if you boys will excuse me, I’ve got a conference call I need to prepare for.”

“Right. Thanks for agreeing to meet with us,” said Akira.

Haru took up her teacup and lifted it gently to her lips. It was a while before she spoke again.

“The Kogitsunemaru was an heirloom, and a memento from my late father,” she said at length. “It was one of the few things I had left to remember him by--to remember the man who was _my father,_ not just the company president. Arsene took that away from me.”

She set the teacup down with a forceful _clink_ and caught the boys’ gaze.

“Break him.”

Akira and Goro traded glances before turning back to her.

“Don’t worry,” said Goro, smiling sweetly. “If all goes according to plan, we will completely destroy him--along with anyone he’s working for.”

“Good,” said Haru. “I expect no less of you.”

The phone rang before either of them could respond, and Haru nodded to them to signal that their time was up. Bowing politely, the two boys left the room without another word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yes, I know Akira's French is incorrect...... >:3)


	24. The Collector

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the Wildcards' first meeting arrives, and Goro wonders how many of Akira's friends would actually take them up on this...

Goro arrived to Leblanc that afternoon a little behind schedule; he’d stayed after class to ask one of his professors a question, and the answer took longer than he’d anticipated. He hoped nobody would begrudge him a few minutes of lost time. Sojiro greeted him as he came in, bells jingling on the door.

“There you are, Akechi-kun,” he said. “Everyone else is upstairs. Can I get anything started for you?”

“My usual, if you would.”

“Alright. I’ll bring it up when it’s ready.”

Goro headed to the back and climbed the stairs, heart pounding. They’d spent the last week networking among Akira’s friends and acquaintances for people who could fill the needed roles, and now came the moment of truth: seeing if any of them were as crazy as his fiance was.

As Goro reached the attic, he discovered that the answer to that question was, in fact, all of them.

Niijima and Makoto sat on the couch, reviewing files together. Yusuke Kitagawa sat on the bench by the table, snacking on potato sticks. Haru Okumura sat calmly next to him, a Leblanc mug in her hands. Two faces Goro didn’t recognize--a young man and woman, both blondes--were chatting with Akira by the work bench. Everyone looked up as Goro approached.

“Oh good, now we’re all here,” said Akira, spotting his fiance at the top of the stairs. “Let’s get some introductions done before we get down to business. Can everyone have a seat at the table?”

The Niijima sisters moved their couch closer to the table, and the two blondes sat down on the rickety chairs. Akira pulled the chair from the workbench over for Goro to sit on before taking a seat on a stool. He looked around the table, meeting the eyes of everyone present in turn.

“Alright,” he said. “Wildcards, welcome to our first--second?--meeting. Niijima-san, Makoto, allow me to introduce the newest members.”

Akira gestured to Yusuke, who was sitting nearest him.

“This is Yusuke Kitagawa, a talented artist who will be painting the target for us. His codename is King.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Yusuke, looking up from his potato snacks.

“Next we have Haru Okumura, with whom some of you are already familiar. She’s agreed to provide the funds for the operation, on the condition that we recover her family’s sword. Her codename is Diamonds.”

Haru nodded demurely, sipping her tea.

“Next we have Ryuji Sakamoto, a longtime friend of mine and track coach over at Shujin High School. He’s going to be our ‘muscle’, working as a private security guard for the collector. Codename: Clubs.”

“Wassup?” said the blond boy, grinning.

“Finally, we have Ann Takamaki--codename Hearts. She’s a fashion designer working in the costume department for an upcoming tokusatsu show. She’ll be taking all of your measurements.”

“Nice to meet you!” said the blond girl with a wink.

“There was also another member who couldn’t make it today,” said Akira. “Our tech wiz had a scheduling conflict she couldn't avoid, but she'll be at the next meeting for sure. Any questions so far?

“Er, why measurements…?” said Niijima.

“Well,” said Akira. “For one thing, knowing the exact dimensions of all of our members will be important for positioning on the night of the job, especially if we end up in a small apartment. For another… well, it’d be no fun if I spoiled the surprise.”

“I thought you said you were _done_ with surprises?” said Goro tersely.

“It won’t be at your expense this time, I promise.”

“It had _better_ not be.”

"Let's just say I want to iron out all the details on this one first," said Akira. "It might not be feasible in the time we have, and we've got a lot on our plates already."

"Your secrecy does not inspire much confidence, Akira."

“Alright, alright, enough bickering,” said Niijima. “So, if we have the funds, the art, some extra muscle, and… whatever Takamaki-san is doing, then that just means we need to find the collector.”

“Why not have Kitagawa-kun do it?” asked Makoto. “He’s already here, and he has a sort of distinguished air.”

“Hm?” Yusuke looked up again; he’d pulled out his sketchbook in the time they were talking.

“I dunno,” said Akira, frowning. “He looks distinguished, yeah, but Yusuke couldn’t act himself out of a paper bag--no offense, Yusuke.”

“Oh, none taken.”

“Isn’t he a little young, also?” said Niijima. “It would seem strange for such a young man to own so much fine art, much less his own Tokyo apartment.”

“So we need someone older…” Goro put a hand to his chin, thinking. Most of the adults he knew were either in the police--so, potential suspects--or professors at his school. Perhaps he could try asking someone in the latter category…?

As the group mulled this over, footsteps sounded on the stairs. Sojiro came up into the attic, carrying a mug of steaming coffee on a small tray.

“Akechi-kun, here’s your coffee.”

“Thank you, Sakura-san.”

Sojiro set Goro’s coffee on the table, and the young detective suddenly had an idea.

“Sakura-san?”

“Hm?”

“We need someone to pose as a fine art collector,” said Goro, “We were thinking that person would be an older gentleman with refined taste, and it occurs to me that you fit that description to a T.”

“W-well, I’m flattered you think so,” said Sojiro, “But--what’s this all about?”

Akira took a moment to explain the plan to him, focusing on the collector’s role in the job. Sojiro nodded as he listened, frowning slightly.

“So you want me to set up shop in an apartment somewhere, just waiting for a thief to swing by?” he said. “I’ve got a restaurant to run, you know.”

“You wouldn’t have to live there,” said Akira. “You would just have to be the face of our collector--appearing in magazine interviews and online articles, maybe a youtube video or two. You would also be checking the mail at the apartment periodically, in case Arsene takes notice.”

“You’ve already got interviews lined up…?” Sojiro seemed impressed.

“Well, I’ve got friends in the journalism business,” said Akira vaguely. “We’ll need those kinds of things to increase your credibility in the art world.”

“Right…”

“So, Sojiro? What do you say?” said Akira, smiling. “Want to be part of something cool?”

“Well…” Sojiro closed his eyes while he considered. “I suppose it does sound kind of cool, helping take down a phantom thief…” Finally, he sighed. “Alright. Count me in.”

“Glad to have you,” said Akira. “Let’s see, you’ll need a codename…”

“Boss,” said Sojiro.

“Well, I was trying to go for a playing card motif with these…” said Akira.

“It’s Boss or I’m out.”

“Alright, Boss.”

“Oh, and we should have an alias for the collector, too,” said Goro. “The name ‘Sojiro Sakura’ is likely linked with Leblanc, and I’d imagine there are several legal records with his name on them. If the informant is with the police, they would easily be able to uncover the truth.”

“We’ll also need a believable reason nobody’s heard of him before now,” said Niijima. “I would imagine that the art collecting community is fairly tight-knit, even in a city like Tokyo.”

“Oh! What if he was living overseas?” said Ann. “We could say he’s Japanese-American and grew up out of the country, but decided to try relocating to Japan?”

“Hm, I like that,” said Sojiro.

“That works,” said Niijima. “And for a name…?”

“Ooh! Ooh! Give him a cool half-American name!” said Ryuji. “How about something like… George Nakata?”

“Isn’t that the name of a voice actor…?” said Ann.

“No, that’s _Jouji_ Nakata,” said Akira. “But anyway, we’re getting off topic. Sojiro, how does the name ‘George Nakata’ strike you?”

“I like it,” said Sojiro. “It’s not obviously fake, but there probably aren’t that many George Nakatas here in Tokyo, either.”

“Which means we’re about to own the Google results,” said Akira, smirking. “Alright everyone, here’s the plan for the afternoon. Now that we have most of the moving parts, we can get the next phase in gear. Niijima and Sojiro--you three should work out a backstory for this guy. Draft something up that I can pass along to my journalist friend. Sojiro, you should decide on this guy’s persona--something you can slip into easily, but it shouldn’t just be regular ‘you’.”

“Got it,” said Sojiro. "Niijima-san, would you mind coming back downstairs with me? I shouldn't leave the shop unattended for too long..."

"I don't mind at all," Niijima answered him. "It's too stuffy up here, anyway."

“Right, then--Makoto, Ryuji, and Haru, you’re on the apartment and art search," Akira continued. "Try to find an apartment in Shibuya, but I’m less picky about where the art’s from.”

“Understood,” said Haru. “I’ll work out a budget for us as well.”

“Yusuke--did you bring any of your supplies?”

“I didn’t think I would need them,” said Yusuke.

“Alright. Let Ann measure you and then you can go home.”

“Understood.”

“Goro and I will help out either group if you need us,” said Akira. He clapped his hands. “Alright, Wildcards. Let’s move!”

The group split into teams, and Yusuke wandered over to Ann to get measured. Goro nodded to himself as he watched his peers get to work. Somehow, Akira’s elaborate plan was starting to come together. If everything went as planned, they’d be able to unmask their culprit in a matter of weeks.

He was even starting to look forward to it… well, just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A seiyuu joke, in *my* fanfiction? it's more likely than you think


	25. The Hacker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their plans starting to take shape, Akira and Goro pay a visit to their technical expert...

With a few days of diligent work, “George Nakata” started to take shape on paper. Born to Japanese expats in San Francisco, he’d lived most of his life in America. He’d authored several articles, and had a sizable collection of primarily Western-style art. In his middle age he’d had a crisis of identity and decided to relocate to Japan to connect with his heritage. His family had ties to the Okumura family, and they generously offered him one of their apartments to live in…

“I can’t believe she bought the whole building,” said Goro, as he and Akira rode the elevator to their next appointment.

“A brand-new complex, and Okumura Foods had been planning to invest in employee housing for a while,” said Akira. “From a business standpoint, it was brilliant.”

“Well, as long as 'Nakata' can live there without any issues…”

“Yeah, Haru said there shouldn’t be any problems.”

The elevator doors slid open. Their next destination was the apartment of the final member of the Wildcards, an Infosec consultant who worked from home. Akira managed to find the apartment and rapped lightly on the door.

“Coming, coming!” a woman’s voice came from inside. The door slid open, and a petite young girl with orange hair down to her waist greeted them.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” she said. “Come in, come in, and sorry about the mess.”

Akira and Goro followed the young woman inside. The room beyond wasn’t so much messy as it was crowded--bookshelves were crammed with manga, games, and figurines, and there was a sizable stack of game cases on the coffee table. The walls were completely covered in game posters and wall scrolls. A computer desk was up against one wall, lined with more figurines--including a carefully-posed set of Neo Featherman Rangers. The girl had two monitors set up, both of which appeared to be running different games.

“Welcome to the nerd lair!” the girl announced proudly, seeing Akira and Goro with their heads on a swivel. “Heheh, are you impressed?”

“I don’t know what to say…” said Goro.

“Oh, Futaba, have you met my fiance?” Akira asked. “This is Goro Ake--!”

“So this is Akira’s wifey…” Futaba interrupted him, inspecting Goro with a particular interest. “Hm-hm…. Yes, I’d say you pulled a 5-Star Servant with this one! A sparkling SSR!”

Goro turned to Akira.

“Did any of what she just said make sense to you?”

“Easy on the nerd jokes, Futaba,” said Akira, chuckling a little. “Goro, this is Futaba Sakura--codename Jack. She’s Sojiro’s daughter, and a hacker extraordinaire.”

“Nice to meetcha!” said Futaba, throwing up a peace sign.

“We’re here to see how things are going on your end,” said Akira. “You got the stuff I sent you?”

“Yup!” Futaba sat down at her desk and exited one of the games. “Easy peesy.”

“Er,” said Goro, “What exactly did you…?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Futaba opened up a web browser, clacking away at her keyboard. An alumni directory for UC Santa Barbara appeared on the screen, with the name ‘George Nakata’ highlighted. “Class of ‘79 at UC Santa Barbara, major in art history.”

“So you hacked him into a foreign university,” said Goro, “Impressive… ”

“That’s just beginning,” said Futaba, cracking her knuckles. “Watch this!”

Futaba pulled up the website of a reputable Japanese art history publication and ran a search on the name “Nakata”. A few articles popped up, and Goro leaned forward to read them aloud.

“‘Van Gogh and Japan’… ‘Comparative Analysis of the French Masters’... ‘Perspective in Renaissance Art’... who wrote all these?”

“I did,” said Akira. “For school, anyway.”

Goro frowned.

“I don’t know,” he said. “If any of your professors read this magazine--!”

“Relax, these ‘officially’ published ten years ago,” said Futaba, indicating to the timestamps. “They won’t show up in any feeds, and we’ll just delete ‘em later.”

“We need Arsene and his patron to believe George Nakata is a real person,” said Akira. “And the first thing they’ll do is run a Google search.”

To demonstrate, Futaba typed ‘George Nakata’ into her search bar, then leaned aside to show off the results. The fake articles and university profile were the top hits.

“How…?” said Goro.

“Search Engine Optimization,” said Futaba matter-of-factly. “It turns out if you pay Google enough they’ll put whatever you want at the top of the first page.”

“Great work, Futaba,” said Akira. “I’ll have the final piece ready for you in a couple of days.”

“Dare I ask…?” said Goro.

“I’ve got a friend who works for a big-name tabloid, writing primarily about arts and entertainment,” said Akira. “I’m giving her a big scoop on the _Sayuri_ : namely, that it was found by Nakata among his family’s things. He had it analyzed to determine whether it was genuine, and found that it was--along with the secret of her gaze beneath layers of paint. He then had it restored to reflect the original composition.”

“Okay,” said Goro. “I suppose since it’s in a tabloid, they’ll fact-check it a little less rigorously… Now my only concern is whether or not something like that will catch Arsene’s attention.”

“I thought you might say that,” said Akira. “So to seal the deal, Nakata-san will be holding an open house gala to showcase the painting--its first public appearance in almost twenty years. The article will include more details about the where’s and when’s.”

“And once that’s published, we can bump it to the top result,” said Futaba. “He’ll notice it for sure! Like a main quest marker!”

“Or a big neon sign saying ‘Steal This, Arsene’,” said Akira, smiling coyly. “Haru’s allocated some funds for regular advertising too, if we want to go that route.”

“Alright,” said Goro. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed you thought this far out. If we can get rumors buzzing about that gala back at the station, Arsene and his informant are bound to hear something about it. Perhaps they’ll even attend…”

“Which means _we_ might need to attend,” said Akira. “Just to see who shows.”

“Please,” said Goro. “We’d attract attention to ourselves--and besides, I’m not one for fancy parties.”

“You sure?” said Akira. “You don’t want to see your husband wearing a sexy tuxedo…?”

“I--excuse me!?”

“Alright you two, get a room,” said Futaba, hands on her hips. “That all for today, Joker?”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” said Akira. “I’ll send you the article when it’s ready.”

“Got it!” said Futaba, giving a salute. “I’ll see you lovebirds later!”

Goro flushed and tried to come up with a response, but Akira already had an arm around his shoulder, escorting him back to the door.

“Come to the meeting next time, Futaba! We missed you!”

“I’ll try, but you keep picking times when I have raids!!”

The two of them left Futaba’s apartment, shutting the door behind themselves. As they headed back to the elevator, Goro took out his phone to cross that particular errand off his list.

“Next is helping out with the apartment…” he said, glancing over the other items. “Should we pick up anything on the way?”

“Maybe some snacks,” said Akira. Seeming to realize something, he added, “Oh, crap, there was one more thing I needed to ask Futaba about…”

“Should we head back?”

“Nah, I’ll just send her an email. I’ll have to see what the security options are like at the apartment first anyway.”

“Thinking about using her expertise to fortify the cameras…?”

“Something like that.”

While Goro knew that his fiance’s “something like that” rarely ever meant well, he decided not to press the issue. All would be revealed in due time. He still didn’t quite know what his fiance planned to do with Arsene once they’d captured him--maybe he didn’t have a plan at all. At the very least, they would have several weeks to figure it out.

_For now, I suppose I just have to trust that Akira has something in mind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i might have had a little _too_ much fun writing futaba's dialog...


	26. Accusations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the gala fast approaching, Detective Niijima stays at the office late to finish up some work...

The gala was set for the last weekend of February, and the tabloid article published without any issues. While registration would be required in advance, they didn’t plan to charge any money for the event. (Understandably, Goro wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a scandal if it got out that the painting was forged.) The guest list would allow them to at least have some record of who had come--or who had intended to come and not shown.

Yusuke completed the painting just before Valentine's, and helped Akira and Sojiro get it mounted at the apartment. It was a near exact replica of the original--the only difference was the presence of a baby in the woman’s arms, the direct object of her pensive gaze. Akira and Goro passed Valentine’s day with the Wildcards, helping get the wiring in the apartment set up for security cameras and bugs. As the final icing on the cake, Makoto and Haru got flyers printed showing the finished piece, leaving them at several art museums around Tokyo. Makoto even brought a few to the station to leave unassumingly in break rooms.

As the Wildcards prepared their trap, Arsene was, of course, still sending calling cards--this time at a pace of about one every two weeks, and mostly to private collectors. Niijima and Goro handled security and preparations, but in reality, they didn’t put much effort into it; after Arsene had shown them up twice in a row, all they could really do was recommend the victims buy insurance. All attempts to trace the stolen items came up null, too--despite the plans Arsene announced on his cards, none of the works ever turned up at museums, auctions, or even the black market. They were simply disappearing off the map.

With just days remaining before the big night, Sae Niijima sat at her desk one evening, well after the rest of the team had gone home. She’d hoped to get a little more work in before the weekend, when she’d undoubtedly be too busy with the Wildcards to make any more progress. An unfinished convenience store bento sat on the desk next to her laptop, growing cold.

Her main task for the evening was to assess the gala’s reservation list; the deadline had passed at the start of the week. They would be expecting a modest crowd, but so far, none of the attendees were particularly suspicious. She ran background checks on all their names, and nothing of note came up. A rich collector here, a museum curator there… even the SIU director had put his name in. His name surprised her at first, but she remembered he was a fan of the arts. The chance to see a rare piece like the _Sayuri_ didn’t come by often.

_I suppose it’s good that he’s getting back to his hobby, after losing such valuable prints to Arsene…_

A knock sounded at her door, and Niijima jumped. She looked up to see the SIU director himself in the doorway, knuckles against the doorframe.

“Niijima-kun, you’re here awfully late,” he commented.

“I could say the same to you,” Niijima smiled at him. “Heading home, sir?”

“I am,” said the director, setting down his briefcase. “But it’s been a while since we last talked, so I thought I would check in before I left. Has there been any progress with…?”

Niijima shook her head.

“I’m afraid not, sir. He somehow finds a way around all our precautions.”

“Just like he did in France?”

“Yes…” Niijima frowned. “We’re still working on a contingency plan, but it’s going to take a while. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to find your prints yet, either.”

“That’s alright. Catch the thief first, and then you can worry about my prints.”

The director paused, brow furrowing. He put a hand to his chin.

“Still, though… three months with so little gain… It’s unlike you, detective.”

“Don’t rub it in, sir,” Niijima answered him apologetically.

“And even young Akechi seems stumped,” the director continued. “A bright mind like his, yet he has nothing to show for it… If I recall, he was little help in France, either.”

“That’s not true, sir,” said Niijima. “It was only thanks to Akechi-kun that we got as close as we did.”

“Five years too late, anyway.”

“And his trap that night would have worked, if--!” she paused. “If he hadn’t mixed up the wings…”

The director looked at her gravely, all warmth gone from his manner.

“Do you still believe that was an accident, Niijima-kun?”

“I… have my reasons not to,” she responded carefully. “Even so--Mr. Director, are you seriously suggesting that Akechi has something to do with this?”

“I’m only trying to eliminate the impossible,” said the director. “You seemed a bit stuck, so I thought I’d offer my opinion--just like old times.”

“Thank you, sir, but I think I’ll be alright on my own this time.” Niijima smiled at him, mirthlessly; the smile she reserved for men who’d overstayed their welcome. “It’s been five years since Akechi-kun’s slip-up at the Louvre. I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“You know, he always seemed… uncanny, that boy,” the director went on. “Solving cases with almost superhuman accuracy. Perceiving details that everyone else had overlooked--as if he already knew to look for them. That he was the one to implicate his own estranged father in a murder, at such a young age…”

“I know that you and Mr. Shido were on friendly terms in the past,” said Niijima. “But that has no relation to the current case. I don’t believe Akechi-kun has been involved with crimes of the scale you’re implying.”

“Then, is it mere coincidence that he chose to marry the man we’d identified as Arsene?”

“Detective Akechi’s private life is his own business,” said Niijima, plainly. “Now, any other wild claims you’d like to level against my subordinates, or may I return to my work?”

“No… that will do for now,” said the director with a wheezy sigh.

“Thank you,” said Niijima. “I understand if you’re under a lot of stress right now, but please refrain from taking it out on my investigation team. All I ask is that you trust us for just a little longer.”

“Alright.” The director picked up his briefcase from the floor. “I’m sorry to have bothered you when you have work left to do. I’ll take my leave.”

“It’s fine,” Niijima responded with a harmless set phrase, much as she felt that it was _not_ fine. As he turned to leave, she added, “I’m surprised, sir. You’re not usually the type to be swayed by rumors. You should consider taking a few days off to clear your head.”

The director paused, his back to her.

“If I’ve learned anything in this career, Niijima-kun,” he said. “It’s that sometimes, the truth is hiding right in front of us--in places we’d prefer not to look.”

He left her to mull over those words, pulling the door closed behind himself. Niijima turned back to her laptop, hands hovering over the keys. She’d lost track of which name she’d been on, but it didn’t matter. She was too distracted to focus anyway.

She’d known the director a long time, and usually, she trusted his judgment. This time, his claims just didn’t make sense given the evidence. There were too many rock-solid alibis by now to prove the young detective’s innocence. Even beyond that, Akechi didn’t strike her as someone who would deliberately endanger his loved ones like this. What could he possibly stand to gain from putting Kurusu--and himself--in harm’s way?

_I almost feel bad keeping the director in the dark about this, but we just can't risk the details of our case reaching anyone outside our team. He’s clearly just as stressed as the rest of us, and frankly, I’m not surprised he’s taking it out on Akechi. He had a reputation long before our time in France; this would hardly be the first time I’ve seen grown men frustrated that someone much younger is outperforming them._

_Don’t worry, Mr. Director. With any luck, we won’t be keeping you in the dark much longer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i added this scene kinda last-minute lmao...


	27. The Function

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the gala arrives. So far, so good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [HERE](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/169637570182/arriving-to-the-function-the-new-chapter-of)!

The night of the gala arrived, and the Wildcards split into their assigned roles. Sojiro arrived at the apartment around noon to practice his role before meeting with the caterer. Ryuji would be donning Akira’s old uniform and posing as Nakata’s private security guard, keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious. Futaba and Yusuke would be taking names at the door, making sure no one slipped in unaccounted-for. Ann had prior plans, and Makoto was on call back at the station--that left Niijima, Akira, Goro, and Haru to attend as guests.

As expected for a wealthy collector’s gala, formalwear was a necessity. Akira broke out his nicest suit for the occasion, complete with a red shirt and black bow tie. Goro elected to complement him and rented a suit in all white, with a red shirt and gold tie.

“I’m surprised you know how to tie one of those,” said Goro, watching as his fiance adjusted his bow tie in the bathroom mirror.

“Sojiro taught me,” said Akira. “Back when I was fake-dating Haru--had to impress her dad with my suave looks.”

“Mm-hm,” said Goro, unamused. He busied himself with tying his own tie. After a few minutes he noticed the room seemed quiet and looked up again, catching his fiance’s gaze in the mirror. The look in Akira’s eyes made his heart skip a beat.

“Akira?”

“Just admiring you,” said Akira, smiling. “That suit looks great on you, babe.”

“Thank you…” Goro looked down bashfully.

“But I bet it would look much better--”

“--on our bedroom floor,” Goro finished for him, sighing. “Please. I’ve heard that one a million times.”

“Well, what can I say? You look great in everything, but you look even better naked. Can you blame me for wanting to rip your clothes off any chance I get?”

“Yes, well,” said Goro, straightening his tie. “I’m renting this suit, so please be sure to hang it properly.”

“Fair enough,” said Akira. “Ready to go?”

“Mm-hm. Niijima’s picking us up in about ten minutes.”

Goro checked his outfit in the mirror one final time before heading to the bedroom to collect his wallet and keys.

* * *

They reached the apartment building in Shibuya about fifteen minutes after the gala was set to begin, hoping to slip under the radar by arriving fashionably late. Niijima stepped out of the car looking nigh unrecognizable: her silver hair now hid under a short black wig. Her feather boa and _very_ flattering black dress were a far cry from her usual image; she’d even used brighter lipstick and heavier mascara than usual. The boys almost hadn’t recognized her when she pulled up to their apartment complex; she had to honk to get their attention.

“It’s just a precaution,” she’d told them on the way there. “There were a few police names on our reservation list, and I don’t want to risk any of them catching on.”

“Right,” Goro had replied. “Seeing three of the four investigation team members at this venue might raise some red flags.”

“Rei Mitsurugi is the name I registered under. If anyone asks, I’m studying to become a museum curator. Akira, you and I had a class together once.”

“Got it.”

After making sure the coast was clear, Niijima opened one of the rear doors so the boys could get out.

“The gala runs for three hours,” she said, “Stay out of trouble, and don’t draw attention to yourselves--which I say only as a nicety at this point, considering what the two of you are wearing.”

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself, ‘Mitsurugi-san,’” said Akira.

“Don’t, or you’re walking home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

They greeted Futaba and Yusuke at the door--though they’d agreed beforehand that just in case, they would pretend not to know each other. Yusuke found their names on the list, nodded as if sure of something, and indicated for them to enter.

The apartment they’d rented for Sojiro was a spacious, sprawling thing--the penthouse of the complex Haru bought. It was larger than both floors of Leblanc combined, and they’d managed to make it look lived-in even with all that space. The _Sayuri_ was given star treatment, displayed prominently over the fireplace. Various well-to-do guests milled around, some admiring the art, others helping themselves to hors d'oeuvres. Akira spotted Ryuji off in one corner, looking somewhat bored. Ryuji took notice of him and waved cheekily.

Haru had arrived slightly earlier, dressed in an elegant pink dress, and with a string of delicate pearls framing her neck. She sat on the couch and chatted with Sojiro for a while, occasionally entertaining small talk from other partygoers. “George Nakata” was not a far cry from the old man’s usual appearance: he dressed a bit more sharply than normal, and a jaunty white hat sat on his head. While Sojiro tended to wear warm colors, the group had decided that George preferred deep midnight blues and royal purples. He certainly looked like a man of money--enough to fool anyone who didn’t know him personally.

Akira and Goro milled around together, both taking note of every face. Aside from the other Wildcards, there was nobody Akira really recognized--until he spotted the SIU director joining Sojiro on the couches to strike up a conversation. Akira pointed him out to Goro.

“Hm? That’s the director, isn’t it?” Goro frowned. “I remember seeing that he signed up for the gala.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” said Akira. “He’s a man of taste, after all.”

“I don’t know,” Goro put a hand to his chin. “Could he be…?”

“That wouldn’t make any sense, though,” said Akira. “He was one of the victims, remember?”

“Right… Akira? Where are you going?”

Akira was already striding up to the director, and Goro supposed he ought to follow him. Akira waited patiently for a chance to join the conversation; his chance came as Sojiro looked up to greet him.

“And who is this fine young man?” he asked.

“Akira Kurusu,” said Akira, bowing slightly. “Ah, and this is my lovely fiance, Goro Akechi. It’s an honor to finally meet you, Nakata-san.”

Goro bowed, feeling slightly ridiculous bowing to someone he already knew--but he knew better than to drop pretenses at a time like this.

“‘Finally,’ he says,” said Sojiro, smiling. “I didn’t know I had any fans!”

“I read many of your papers when I was studying art history,” Akira continued. “Your treatise on Van Gogh and Japan was particularly fascinating. When I saw you were holding an open house, well--I couldn’t _not_ stop by!”

“I’m flattered,” said Sojiro. He’d been briefed on the kinds of things people might ask him, and had committed Akira’s essays to memory. “I was surprised to learn that a master like Van Gogh had been so heavily influenced by Japanese art--they don’t teach you such things in American public school! Learning that made me want to connect to my heritage more.”

“Many of the impressionists were influenced by Japanese printmakers,” the SIU director chimed in. “Kurusu-kun, wasn’t Monet particularly interested in Japanese prints as well?”

“He collected them,” said Akira, nodding. “I’ve been to his house in Giverny, and he had framed prints on every wall. He was less visually influenced by them than Van Gogh was, but he did include his collection in a painting or two.”

The SIU director nodded.

“Amazing that these old masters were so fascinated by Japan, and now Japan is fascinated with them,” he said. “Why, even old Madarame did a self-portrait in the style of Van Gogh.”

“One of his few original works,” said Sojiro gravely. He turned his gaze to the _Sayuri_ hanging on the wall. “The _Sayuri_ was always a favorite of mine, but it bothers me to think that Madarame stole it from some young artist…”

“All the more remarkable that you’ve managed to recover the original, Nakata-san,” said the SIU director. “I never would have guessed that the woman was gazing at a child! I had always imagined that Madarame was painting some unrequited love of his, so I can only wonder what hardships the original painter faced. Her expression conveys such loneliness…”

“I disagree,” said Akira. “When I look at the _Sayuri_ , the only thing I see in her eyes is love. The love of someone who knows the two of them can’t be together forever, and is cherishing what little time they have…” He glanced at Goro. “I used to see eyes like hers all the time.”

Goro flushed a little and looked away, hoping neither of the other men had noticed.

“A beautiful interpretation, young man,” said Sojiro, nodding. “I would have liked to read some of _your_ analytic papers!”

“Nakata-san, you flatter me.” Akira couldn’t help grinning anyway. “And now, the hors d'oeuvres are calling--if you’ll excuse us.”

“Please, help yourselves,” said Sojiro, nodding toward the buffet table. “You’re welcome to come back and chat whenever you’d like.”

Akira and Goro headed over to the buffet table to inspect the offerings: there were several kinds of cookies, traditional sweets, and fruit slices available to much on. After piling their plates with snacks, they wandered back over to Niijima, who sipped from a tall flute of sparkling cider as she loitered alongside an abstract sculpture. Other partygoers almost seemed too intimidated to talk to her.

“Well, Mitsurugi-san?” said Akira. “Enjoying the party?”

“I must admit, Nakata-san knows how to put on an event,” said Niijima, smiling. She lowered her voice before continuing. “I hope you two aren’t just mingling, though. We’re here for work.”

“I know, I know,” said Akira. “But come on, Mitsurugi-san! We’re at a fancy party! We can live a little, right?”

Niijima sighed, taking a sip of her cider.

“I suppose I haven’t had a real night off in a while… not since we went out for drinks back in December, actually.”

“You deserve a break after all your hard work,” said Goro. “We can keep an eye on things, so please feel free to relax if you need to--ah, but since you’re driving us home…”

“I’m not having any alcohol, don’t worry,” said Niijima, smiling gratefully.

“Good,” said Akira. “We’ll make it up to you once this is over. Drinks’ll be on us.”

She laughed at that, a little--an honest laugh from her was rare.

“You two have been working plenty hard yourselves,” she said. “To be honest, I’m impressed at how fast this came together. You amplify each other’s strengths so well… I suppose it’s no surprise you’re engaged.”

The boys glanced at each other, and Akira smiled proudly.

“May I ask how the two of you met?” Niijima went on. “I figured you must have met when we were all in France, but I don’t think I ever heard the story…”

“Well,” said Akira, “I was studying at a French university, and one day I thought I’d take my homework to a cafe by the Seine to see if it’d help me focus. My table had the only empty seat in the whole place, and Goro just happened to come ask if he could sit there. I didn’t end up getting any homework done, of course--this guy spent the whole afternoon charming my socks off.”

“You could say it was a _coup de foutre_ ,” Goro added, smiling.

Niijima stared at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Did I say it wrong…?”

“Was that _foutre_ with a T?” said Niijima. “I think you meant _coup de_ **_foudre_** , Akechi-kun. With a D.”

“Oh…”

“ _Coup de fou_ ** _d_** _re_ is ‘love at first sight’,” Niijima went on. “ _Coup de fou_ ** _t_** _re_ is… something I won’t repeat, as it’s extremely inappropriate. Where did you even learn--?” Her gaze fell on Akira. “Oh.”

Akira grinned, and Goro glared at him.

“I knew it,” said Goro, “I _knew_ you were messing with me--!”

“Aw, don’t be mad, babe,” said Akira, “The look on her face was so worth it--!”

Goro socked his cackling fiance in the arm.

“I take it all back,” said Niijima, sighing. “You two are insufferable, and I will be thrilled when this case is over.”

Niijima drained the rest of her cider. Scanning the room, she seemed to take notice of the SIU director on the couch. He was having an animated conversation with Sojiro--perhaps more animated than she’d ever seen him.

“Actually…” she said. “Akechi-kun, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Hm?”

“It won’t take long.” Noticing Akira’s curious expression, she added. “Sorry, Kurusu, this is just between the two of us.”

“Alright,” said Akira. “I’m sure I can keep myself busy for a bit.”

Akira watched as Niijima led his fiance away from the main room. They passed Ryuji, who nodded to them knowingly. As they disappeared from view, Akira took a moment to survey the room, taking note of his friends among the guests.

_One of these people could be Arsene’s patron… And if all goes to plan, we’ll know which one before too long._

He couldn’t help smiling to himself.

_As they say... the game is afoot!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finally got to the payoff of that joke i set up a few chapters ago
> 
> sae's fake name is a blatant reference to one miles edgeworth, and you know what? im not sorry


	28. Blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro and Akira return from the gala with a bit of, erm, sexual tension to work out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Rating note: this chapter is sexually explicit and contains bondage and coercion fantasy themes_
> 
> holy bees this chapter got long.... enjoy, yall

“I still can’t believe you.”

“About what?”

“Teaching me inappropriate words in French _on purpose--!”_

“Couldn’t resist, babe.”

The two of them were back at their apartment now. The gala had ended, and Niijima generously gave them a ride back home--on the condition that Akira didn’t speak a word the whole way back. The silence in Niijima’s car was thick enough to slice. Once they got back inside their flat, however, Goro made his irritation clear.

“I’d like to ask that you not embarrass me in front of our coworkers, please,” said Goro, removing his jacket.

“Alright, alright. Sorry, Goro.”

The two of them changed out of their formalwear almost methodically, hanging their jackets, ties, and pants in the closet. Akira couldn’t help watching as his fiance removed each layer. Ah, if only it wasn’t a rented suit, and he could thoughtlessly strip it off and carry his partner to bed…!

“What are you looking at?” Goro asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

“Ah, just thinking,” Akira responded. “You know… It’s not entirely inaccurate to say we started out with a _coup de foutre._ ”

“Dare I ask what that actually means…?”

“Google it.”

Goro picked up his phone to look it up, dreading what he’d find. His eyes widened in horror.

“ _AKIRA.”_

Akira cackled.

“ _You made me say that to Detective Niijima--!”_

“I didn’t _make_ you say anything,” said Akira. “You just decided to trust me.”

“Against my better judgment, clearly!” Goro huffed, flushing angrily. “And what about the other one, then? Baise--?”

“ _Embrasse-moi_ is ‘kiss me’,” said Akira, grinning. “ _Baise-moi_ actually means ‘fuck me’.”

“I _knew_ it--!”

“There’s more, too,” said Akira, voice low. “I could teach you, if you wanted. For real this time.”

Goro considered this. Annoyed as he was, he always did like hearing Akira speak French…

“And you promise not to embarrass me anymore?”

“I promise, babe.”

Akira stepped closer to him, resting his hands on Goro’s shoulders.

_“Je suis fou de toi,”_ he said quietly. “I’m crazy about you, Goro.”

Goro’s heart jumped, hearing those words.

“... say it again?”

_“Je suis fou de toi.”_

Goro couldn’t really understand--his already weak French had fallen out of practice after five years of not using it--but the way the words rolled off Akira’s tongue was enchanting. He reached up to take Akira’s face in his hands.

“It sounds nice when you say it,” he said. Akira smiled, bringing their lips together.

“Then I’ll keep saying it,” he whispered as they parted. _“Je suis fou de toi.”_

He repeated it as they made their way to the bed, whispering it between stolen kisses. As they sat down, not even bothering with the sheets--even half-dressed, the lingering chill of the room failed to reach them.

“Have I got you a little worked up?” Akira asked as Goro clumsily undid the buttons of his shirt.

“Just a little…” Goro lied. Akira glanced down to Goro’s boxers, smirked, and looked back up.

“Wanna do it, then?”

“Y-Yeah…”

“Mm, you don’t sound very enthusiastic,” Akira teased. “You could try something like _prends-moi_.”

“What does that mean?”

_“Take me.”_ Akira laid a kiss on his partner’s neck, and Goro let out a squeak.

“P-Prends--!” Goro couldn’t even get the words out; he felt Akira’s teeth on his skin. _“Prends-moi--!”_

“Ooh, Goro, your voice sounds so _sexy_ in French--!”

Akira pulled Goro’s shirt collar aside so he could sneak a kiss further down, tugging just enough to leave a mark.

“Do you remember any other French?” he asked. “C’mon, here’s your chance to impress me a little.”

“Er… not much…” Goro admitted. “Just stuff I had to know for the force, like ‘you’re under arrest’ and ‘Freeze! This is the police!’”

Akira inhaled sharply.

“Ooh, that’s hot.”

“Is it?”

“Actually, that gives me an idea…” said Akira, a lips spreading into a wily smile. “Wanna play our thief game tonight, babe?”

“Ah, um, sure…” Goro flushed a little.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do! I, er--wasn’t expecting to dom tonight, is all…”

“We can change it up if you want,” Akira lowered his voice. “Maybe I’ll have you at _my_ mercy this time.”

Goro shivered excitedly.

“Mm, that sounds fun. Although…” he looked away, “Now I’m just thinking about you in those restraints…”

“Having fun?”

“Some…” Goro smiled at him coyly. “I’d be having more fun looking at the real thing.”

“Done and done!”

Akira practically bounced off the bed in his rush to get to the closet. He had to dig a little in their box of toys to find the restraints; once he found them, he was back at Goro’s side in an instant.

“Cuff me, officer!”

“Alright, alright,” Goro delicately fastened one of the restraints around Akira’s wrist. “Both hands tonight, or one on each of us?”

“Fuck…" Akira had to think about it for longer than was strictly necessary. "Both of those sound good.”

“Well, we can’t do both. Here--I’ll pick. Just for logistics’ sake.”

Goro tied the other restraint to Akira’s free wrist, making sure the belts were snug and the clasps fastened.

“We can do one each next time,” said Goro gently. “What’s the safeword?”

“ _Water lilies_.”

“Good,” he smiled. “Because tonight… I won’t show you any mercy without it.”

“ _Jesus_ , babe--!” Akira’s mouth fell open, “Not up to domming, my ass--!”

Goro saw his opportunity and took it; he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Akira’s, tongue slipping into his open mouth.

“Ah--!”

The momentum carried them backwards onto the bed, lips still locked together. Goro pulled back just long enough to pull the chain of the restraints upwards, guiding Akira’s hands over his head.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing you like this,” said Goro, kneeling over him. “Tied up and wanting… It’s a shame I don’t get to see it often.”

“You know, Goro,” said Akira. “You could immortalize this moment if you really wanted.”

“Huh?”

“There’s a camera on your phone, isn’t there? You could take a picture of me for, you know. Personal use.”

“Oh… _Ohhhh_ …!!”

Goro snatched his phone off the nightstand, along with the bottle of lube and a condom--for later. Akira arranged himself on the bed, tilting his head invitingly.

“Wanna get my underwear out of the way, babe? My hands are, ah--tied.”

Goro eagerly obliged him, pulling his underwear off with surprising speed before shifting to remove his own. Then Goro was back to kneeling over him--phone out, camera open. Akira heard a _click_ as his partner hit the shutter. Then another. Each time, his heart jumped; they’d never taken nude photos before. Akira’s mind raced as he thought of all the things Goro might do with such scandalous pictures on his phone…

“Ready to start the game?” Goro asked quietly.

“I’ve been ready,” said Akira, slightly frustrated--he’d hoped the size of his erection would have made his readiness apparent.

“Good,” said Goro. He clicked the shutter a few more times. “There we go.”

He turned the phone around to show Akira the photos he’d taken.

“The famous phantom thief, unmasked and captured on film,” Goro continued. “Showing your face on camera alone is damning enough, but lying around in such a shameful state as this… It would be quite a scandal if these pictures were made public, wouldn’t it, Arsene?”

A chill shot down Akira’s spine.

_Oh, he’s good._

“Alright,” he said, trying his best to stay in character, “You’ve made your point. What do you want from me, detective?”

“I want you to make me come,” said Goro simply. “And if you don’t… Hmm, I think I’ll let _you_ imagine the consequences.”

_Fuck, he might be too good._

Akira was already imagining several nasty ways that could go, but Goro’s voice snapped him back out of his thoughts:

“Or… could it be that you _want_ me to post these pictures where everyone can see?”

“ _Fuck--!”_ Akira couldn’t help swearing out loud this time.

“Of course you do,” said Goro, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were an attention whore, Arsene. I bet you’d get off on the thought of the whole world seeing you like this, naked and debased--!”

Akira let out a needy whine, burying his face into his arm.

“Aha! Did I guess right?”

Goro set his phone down and took up the bottle of lube; he squirted a little onto his fingers.

“So, phantom thief? What will it be? Either you fuck me breathless, or I leak your secrets to the entire world. I know both of those sound appealing to you, but you can only pick one.”

There was really only one option, wasn’t there?

“Then I guess I’ll fuck you,” said Akira, smirking. He brought his hands up, forgetting for a moment that they were bound. “Where do you want me?”

“Ah, perhaps I should have specified.” Goro took Akira’s cock in his free hand. “You may be fucking me, but don’t forget that I’m still in charge here. I’ll be using your cock as my toy.”

Goro squeezed his cock for emphasis, and Akira yelped in spite of himself. Goro’s hand began to move, massaging him gently from base to tip. Akira let out a low groan, eyes on his partner.

“Are you sure my cock’s gonna fit, detective…?” he asked. “Maybe I could help warm you up a little.”

“I handcuffed you for a reason, Arsene.” Goro smiled at him. “You think I’d risk letting you escape?”

Goro reached back with his lube-coated fingers, his hand disappearing from view. Akira could see his arm moving just slightly, rhythmically; his eyes widened as he realized that Goro was prepping _himself_.

_Oh holy shit, that’s hot--!_

He wished he was at the right angle to see it; to see Goro’s fingers sliding in and out, widening himself up so that Akira’s own cock might slide right in--!

But Goro squeezed him again, and suddenly his partner’s touch was all he could think about. He let his hands fall back over his head, eyes toward the ceiling. Honestly, he was amazed that Goro could multitask so well. He was usually prone to distraction, especially with Akira teasing him--!

“Mm, are you ready?”

There was a slick _squelch_ as Goro removed his fingers, and Akira almost swore again. Goro scooted forward a little, grabbing the bottle of lube and the condom. Akira waited with patient anticipation as Goro slipped the condom on for him, as he slathered it with lube…

He jumped as he felt the warmth of Goro’s body pressing down on him.

“Oh, god--!”

And suddenly Akira’s cock slid inside; it was just the tip, but it was still--!

“Well?” said Goro, rocking back and forth a little. Akira bit back a whine. “How does it feel to be my toy, Arsene?”

“Incredible…!” Akira could barely get a word out. His hips bucked, cock desperate to leverage any purchase it could get--!

“Funny, I expected a little more resistance,” said Goro. “But it seems you’re just as depraved in the bedroom as you are on the streets. That you’d _enjoy_ being used like this…!”

Goro let himself sink a little lower, but _just_ a little; almost immediately he straightened back up. Akira wanted to scream--Goro felt so wonderfully _tight_ , it wasn’t enough to just inch into him like this--!

“Look at you…” said Goro. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you? Pervert.”

“You’re the pervert using my dick as a dildo--!” Akira shot back. Goro couldn’t help laughing, briefly forgetting his character.

“Then I suppose we’re birds of a feather, aren’t we?”

Goro sank _just_ a little lower, half a centimeter at most, before pulling back up to the tip. Akira couldn’t stand it anymore; he knew Goro was doing this to torment him. To make him ache, and scream, and _beg_ \--delaying his pleasure as long as possible. Normally he could take it, but tonight…

_If he expects me to just stand by while he fucks himself on my dick…!_

But Akira had a few tricks left up his sleeve.

He let his voice grow louder, leaning into his shoulder, occasionally teasing with a furtive glance--all fronts to draw Goro’s attention away from his hands while he carefully unhooked the chain on the restraints. It had taken some practice, but he’d learned to undo them with minimal movement. A little distraction--a gentle buck of the hips, a bitten-back moan--and he was certain that even someone as observant as Goro wouldn’t notice.

His effort had paid off. Goro’s attention was on Akira’s cock, pressing into him a little at a time.

_Checkmate._

“Hold still, detective,” said Akira.

“Hm?”

In that moment, Akira struck--he reached forward and grabbed Goro by the waist. Goro let out a yelp of surprise, but Akira wasn’t having it; with a sharp downward push, he shoved his partner the rest of the way onto his cock.

“Oh--!” Goro jumped, “H-how did you--!?”

Akira smiled deviously, giving his fiance’s hips a squeeze.

“You can’t expect me to reveal _all_ my little secrets--what would be the fun of that?” Akira gave a few meaning thrusts, which Goro answered with startled squeaks. “And now that I have you where I want you, I’m going to have my wicked way.”

Even saying that, Akira gave him a moment’s pause: a chance to use the safeword, if he’d really stepped out of bounds. He met Goro’s gaze, and was on the verge of asking outright if what he’d done was acceptable--but Goro eyed him back expectantly, the shock seemingly worn off.

“Well?” said Goro, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Are you going to make good on that threat?”

Akira smiled deviously.

“I fully plan to,” he said, thrusting lightly for emphasis. “Ooh, you’re really _squeezing_ me, detective. Are you sure you warmed yourself up enough?”

“I was fairly certain--!”

“Mm, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll be gaping wide by the time I’m done with you.”

“God--!”

Akira began to move his hips, holding Goro steady in place as he thrust his cock deeper into him. Goro gasped and arched his back, mouth falling open.

“Ohh--!!”

Goro didn’t seem to know where to put his hands. As he bounced helplessly on Akira’s cock, his hands wandered from Akira’s wrists, to up by his chest--and then finally covering his face, overwhelmed by it all.

“Aw, detective, don’t hide from me,” said Akira, grinning. “You’re so beautiful…!”

“Ah--!”

“To think, the department sent their most handsome detective after me…! How lucky is that?”

“Akira--!”

“Whoops! What’s my name, detective?”

“Ar--Arsene…!”

“Mm, there you go. I _love_ hearing it roll off your tongue. Won’t you say it again?”

“Ar _sene--!”_

Incensed, Akira began to buck harder; a small reward to his partner for putting up with him. Goro leaned into it, syncing up his own movement. Gradually, his hands came down from his face. Akira reached up to twine their fingers together, and Goro held onto him tightly.

“Getting tired, detective?”

“Of--course not--!”

“Mm, good, because I still have to make you come. I didn’t forget!”

Even so, he was close to coming himself--actually, he was surprised he’d been able to hold out this long. After Goro had practically _tortured_ him earlier, he was impressed he’d had enough self-control not to just break the restraints, flip Goro over, and absolutely ravage him.

Ah, but his self-control was wearing thinner.

“You _like_ this, don’t you, detective?” Akira purred. “You like being at my mercy.”

“I do…!” Goro admitted, breathless.

“You like feeling my cock inside you, as deep as it’ll go…!”

_“God…!”_

“You try to pretend you don’t love it, but I know the _real_ you. I know the truth--!” Akira gave a sharp thrust with each word, “--You. Love. Cock.”

Goro could do little more but whimper in response, his ability to form words quickly dissolving. His head lolled back slightly, mouth falling open, and that was the moment Akira knew he had him.

“Akira--! Ohhhh…!!”

By this point, Akira couldn’t muster the will to correct him.

“Ngh--!” he grunted a little, unsure how much longer he could keep this up. “Goro…!”

Hearing Akira moaning his name, Goro finally hit his limit. He came with a sharp gasp and a few lingering moans, dripping cum onto his partner’s stomach. Akira’s own climax was quick to follow; after taking care to empty every last drop, he finally fell back onto the bed, strength draining from his limbs.

For a moment everything seemed to stand still, aside from the rise and fall of their chests as they caught their breath, and Goro’s thighs trembling as he struggled to stay upright. Akira’s eyes were on the ceiling, unfocused--he was too exhausted to see straight.

After a minute or so Goro finally found the strength to pull himself off of Akira’s cock; he flopped uselessly onto the bed. With some difficulty, Akira shifted onto his side to look at him. Their eyes met.

_As much as I love the actual fucking, I think the look on your face afterwards is my favorite part._

Seeing his fiance looking so happy and relaxed… it made his heart melt a little.

“Alright,” said Akira finally, “I made you come, detective. Are you going to delete the pictures?”

Goro smiled and shook his head weakly.

“Of course not,” he answered. “I’ll be keeping these photos, Arsene. For… personal use.”

Akira snorted.

“Can you move, or are you still…?”

“Pretty spent.”

“Alright.” Akira rolled onto his back and worked the condom off, then grabbed some tissues from his nightstand. “Here… let’s get cleaned up.”

Luckily, there wasn’t much to clean this time. Akira took care of mopping up, and Goro made his way to the bathroom to wash his hands. Akira returned the restraints to the closet, carefully clipping the chain back together. They left their bedraggled dress shirts on the floor for now--they would likely need to be dry-cleaned anyway.

Back in bed, the two of them drew close to each other. Akira tangled their legs together, savoring the touch of his partner’s skin to his.

“Well,” said Goro. “We sure jumped into it tonight, didn’t we.”

“Yeah…” Akira brought a hand up, absentmindedly brushing a lock of Goro’s hair behind his ear. “Guess we had some steam to blow off.”

“Mm,” Goro hummed in agreement. “How was it, this time?”

“Absolutely incredible,” said Akira. He kissed his fiance gently before adding, “I _loved_ getting used like that. Watching you prep yourself--I don’t know why, but holy _shit_ that was hot. And that blackmail bit? I think I found a new kink tonight, babe.”

“Then we’ll have to try it again sometime,” said Goro, smiling. “I’m happy to threaten you any time you like.”

“Ooh, careful…!”

“Your little trick was plenty impressive, too,” Goro went on. “How did you manage to undo the restraints?”

“Ah, yeah…” Akira looked away in embarrassment. “I’d been practicing, but--was that okay? Just taking control like that…”

“Akira, it was fine,” said Goro. He reassured him with a kiss in return. “If it wasn’t alright, I would have used the safeword. And, erm… I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.”

Akira laughed a little. He wrapped his arms around Goro and brought him even closer, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ahh, fucking you is the best…!”

Goro couldn’t help giggling. Akira nuzzled him playfully, kissing his cheek--and then his nose, and his forehead, and finally his lips.

“Akira--! Mm….!”

Goro responded in kind, returning Akira’s kisses just as gently. Being together like this--unwinding after an intense bout of roleplay, reveling in the warmth of each other’s skin--time seemed to slow between the sheets. Akira wouldn’t have minded if morning never came; if he could live out the rest of his life in this kind of bliss…

But even so, there was work left to be done. Their plan was in its final stages, their trap set; all that remained was to wait for their quarry to take the bait. Akira already had a plan in mind for the next steps, but there was still room for some last-minute adjustments.

_Blackmail, huh?_

_I think can make good use of this going forward…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: the translation of _coup de foutre_ i learned was "cum shot"; since i learned it from [a tumblr post](http://maguneedsalife.tumblr.com/post/166274734364) and google translate has since changed its translation, that may not be entirely accurate, so i decided not to provide a clear translation in the fic. (that was the interpretation i was implying throughout, though...)
> 
> i should probably learn some actual french, eh (shoutout to [Selador](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador) for proofreading the rest of my french)
> 
> And now, having finished this chapter... I'm done writing the fic! Updates should come daily for the next little bit lads (until I hit one i haven't finished the art for lmao)


	29. Untouchable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on an errand in Shibuya, Akira gets the phone call he's been waiting for.

On a dingy back street in Shibuya, the neon sign for the hobby store “Untouchable” flickered and buzzed above the door. Inside, the shelves were crammed with model kits for tanks and guns, imitation tactical gear, and military paraphernalia. Display cases showed off real knives alongside true-to-life model guns; some with price tags, others just for show. The store smelled distinctly of plastic and leather. It was the kind of place that attracted a certain brand of enthusiast--and which everyone else tended to avoid.

Almost in spite of this taboo atmosphere, one Akira Kurusu stood nonchalantly at the counter, chatting with the surly man behind the register.

“And Kaoru’s doing well?” Akira continued.

“Yeah. He’s gonna be starting college soon. Says he wants to study art, like you.” The surly man counted out the bills Akira had handed him, a faint smile pricking the corners of his mouth. “Let’s see… yep, that’s 30K. Let me get your change.”

While the man went to put the cash away, a sudden jazzy tune interrupted him.

_“You’ll never see it comi~ing~!”_

“Oh, that’s mine. Sorry, Iwai-san, gimme a sec to take this.” Akira whipped his phone out of his pocket, checking the caller ID. “Akira here. What’s up, babe?”

“Good news.” It was Goro on the other end. “Boss found a calling card in the apartment mailbox this morning. Same stationery. The deadline is in two weeks.”

“Great. Then it’s time for the final touches,” said Akira, smiling. “I’ll check in with Hearts. Can you notify the others? Let’s meet up tomorrow night for one last briefing.”

“Can do.”

Akira hung up, returning his phone to his pocket.

“Sorry again, Iwai-san.”

“Nah. Sounded important. Here’s your change.”

Akira put the few bills and coins back into his wallet while Iwai bagged up his order--all in all, it filled two large bags.

“Thanks for your business,” said Iwai. “Take care. Oh, and you better not be usin’ ‘em to pull a prank.”

Akira shrugged.

“Iwai-san, do I really look like a prankster to you?”

“Aside from that ‘I know something you don’t’ smirk of yours?” Iwai gave a gruff laugh. “A phone call like that gives a guy reason to worry.”

“It’s rude to eavesdrop, you know.”

“I mean it, though,” said Iwai, more seriously. “Be careful, kid. I could be in deep shit if the cops link those back to me. It's not my business what you use 'em for, but--if you  _have_ to do something stupid, at least burn the receipt.”

“Relax, Iwai-san,” Akira reassured him. “I’ll be sure to enjoy them responsibly.”

“Alright…” Iwai didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he relented. “See you around, Kurusu.”

“Mm-hm. Thank you!”

Purchases in hand, Akira left Untouchable with a spring in his step. He came to a stop at the corner so that he could make a phone call.

“Hello? Hearts? It’s Joker.”

“Yeah--what’s up?”

“Are they ready yet?”

“Uh-huh. Just got done this afternoon--is it already time?”

“Yep. Got the calling card this morning. Meet us at Leblanc tomorrow night.”

“You got it!”

Akira couldn’t help smiling as he hung up, and it persisted as he made his way back to Shibuya station. He probably looked like a madman, grinning like a cheshire cat and toting two bags full of boxes--but he didn’t care.

The plan worked. He knew he shouldn’t be this excited--it wasn’t over yet, after all--but he almost couldn’t believe his crazy idea had caught Arsene’s attention so soon. Barely a week had passed since the gala; he’d expected Arsene to keep him waiting for longer than this. And this was just the beginning…!

_Two weeks from now… you’re mine, Arsene. Just you wait._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter was so short lmao...... it's bridging a bunch of important chapters tho
> 
> Also, I don't go into it at all in the fic, but in this AU Akira knows Iwai bc he took a part-time job as a tutor in college and ended up tutoring Kaoru for a bit.


	30. Showtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unnoticed among the hustle and bustle of Shibuya, a shadow slips into George Nakata's apartment.......

In Shibuya, the nights were rarely dark--especially on weekends, when clubs and bars bustled with revelers late into the night. Set back a few blocks from a main road, George Nakata’s apartment complex was only slightly quieter. Security guards waited lazily at the front desk, flipping through manga; most of the building was still unoccupied. A crowd of drunken college students passed by just after midnight, drawing the guards’ attention for a brief moment. A shadow slipped into the air vents in their wake, using their racket to mask his own noise.

Arsene’s ascent through the building went unimpeded. He’d long disabled the cameras, and had even been able to rig the elevator to operate from his phone. He reached Nakata’s penthouse with a speed that would have made his predecessor proud. Heart pounding, he slipped down through a ceiling vent and made his way toward the main room. His escape plan was a little messier: the size of the painting rendered a trip back through the vents impossible. Instead, he’d take the elevator back down and knock the guards out with a little sleeping gas…

The _Sayuri_ hung in a focal point over the fireplace; it was exactly as his informant had told him. He approached it quietly, hoping Mr. Nakata was a sound sleeper…

Just as he was about to reach up and grab it, Arsene felt a hand at his shoulder.

“Argh--!”

The hand yanked him backwards with considerable strength, knocking him off balance; he struggled to regain his footing, but in the next instant his feet were swept out from under him. He was on the ground now, a knee at his back, and his hands held firmly behind him. He struggled, but his opponent was stronger and heavier than he was.

Footsteps approached; Arsene spotted a pair of leather boots coming toward him on the carpet. Their owner knelt down, coming into his field of vision: Arsene’s eyes widened as he recognized the smartly-dressed man in front of him.

“Sorry, Mishima-kun,” said Akira sweetly. “I’m going to need to borrow that helmet again.”

* * *

“Jack, you in?”

_“Just a minute… alright, we’re in. Ready to roll whenever, Joker.”_

The masked intruders worked quickly. Queen finished setting up the tripod as Joker slipped Arsene’s helmet on. Ace tapped away at his fiance’s phone, making sure it was connected to the tiny bluetooth speaker they’d placed on the coffee table.

“Get into position, Joker,” said Queen. “We’re rolling on the count of five.”

“Got it.”

Joker took a seat on the couch across from the camera, folding his hands on his knees.

“What about this guy?” Clubs asked from the floor, where a bound and gagged Arsene lay panicking beneath him. “Want him in the frame too?”

“It’ll be fine with just me. Text Spades so she can get us out of here before the cops come.”

“You got it, Joker!”

“Alright,” Queen fiddled with the camera a little, centering it on her leader. “We’re rolling in five… four…”

She signaled the rest of the countdown with raised fingers, making the OK symbol as the camera started rolling. A red light came on. Ace hit the play button, and a jazzy tune came through the speaker.

Though he knew his audience couldn’t see it, Joker smirked beneath the helmet.

“ _Bonsoir_ , Tokyo!”

* * *

For a Saturday night in Shibuya, it was particularly quiet at the police station. Most officers and staff had gone home already, but there were a few still bogged down with work. The Special Investigation Unit was one such group; hard at work in one of the video rooms, they pored over security footage related to a recent spate of murders. Director Tomohisa Matsumaru was hoping he would be able to leave much of the grunt work to his subordinates; he hadn’t been getting much sleep lately, and he needed to remain alert for any situations that might arise. Just as he was getting up to leave, however, the monitors flashed into static.

“What’s going on…?”

One of the detectives tried fiddling with the console, but there was no reaction. Meanwhile, the officers’ radios erupted with voices from across the station.

_“Hi, I’m in the security room here. Our cameras just went down on all channels.”_

_“I’m in media room 3A, all the screens are static. Anyone copy?”_

In the blink of an eye, the static on the main screen resolved into an image. Instead of the overhead view from a mounted camera, this time the camera was about at eye level--displaying a smartly dressed figure in all black, whose face was concealed by a ghoulish helmet. In the next instant, every other video feed in the room switched over to this same image. Jazzy music filled the room.

“ _Bonsoir_ , Tokyo!” said the man. The mask’s filtering and the camera’s low sound quality garbled his voice somewhat. “Do you recognize me? I am Arsene--the _real_ Arsene.”

“The _real_ Arsene…?” said the SIU director, “That can’t be… He wouldn’t…”

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” said Arsene, gesturing dramatically. “Some _amateur_ going around using my name to do whatever he pleases? Dragging my noble legacy through the mud with selfish, heartless thefts? Frankly, I’m insulted. So, I’ve decided to take matters into my own hands. I’ve already dispensed with your little errand-boy, and you, my friend, are next.”

“What is he talking about?” asked one of the officers, “Two Arsenes--?”

“Shh, this could be important!” the SIU director shushed him. “Someone get ahold of Detective Niijima--!”

“Don’t think you’ll be able to hide from me,” said Arsene. “I know you’re watching this. After all, I went through the trouble to broadcast it directly to you. I’ll admit, I was surprised: I couldn’t have imagined that someone in the police would be behind all this…!”

“Someone in the police--!?” said one of the detectives.

“No way. He’s bluffing. He has to be.”

“Just like Arsene to make a show, isn’t it,” said the SIU director, staring gravely at the screen.

“It would be quite the scandal if this information fell into the wrong hands, don’t you think?” Arsene went on. “But! I am nothing if not a generous man. I might be willing to hold my tongue… for a price, of course. I’ll be available to negotiate the terms of my silence right here, in this room, in two days’ time. You know where this is, don’t you?”

“Where is that?” asked one of the officers. Nobody had an answer for him.

“Come find me. You have forty-eight hours. Meet me here at midnight,” Arsene continued. “Ah, and one more thing--I will only negotiate this deal _personally_. If it comes out that you’ve sent an agent--or worse, sent your compatriots to arrest me in advance--I will gladly make sure every major news outlet in Tokyo knows who’s _really_ behind the recent thefts.”

“He’s mad,” said the SIU director. “Broadcasting his location straight to the police…. Is he an idiot?”

“I had better find this apartment _pristine_ when I return,” Arsene added. “If I see _any_ evidence of tampering whatsoever, the deal is off. Come alone, or don’t come at all.”

Arsene made a gesture like blowing a kiss.

“ _Adieu,_ officers. Consider this your calling card.”

With that, the screens returned to static--then silently resumed their previous connections. The Special Investigation Unit stood wordlessly, wondering if they’d imagined the whole thing.

“Mr. Director…?” said one of the detectives, “What should we do?”

“Did anyone call Detective Niijima?”

Everyone shook their heads sheepishly.

“Well!? Get on it!” the director cried. Everyone scrambled for their phones. “Not all at once, you fools! Adachi--you call her!”

“Y-yes sir!!”

“Everyone else--I believe I was just at that apartment for a gala not too long ago. It’s owned by Okumura Foods. I want a squad down there immediately.”

“Got it!”

The Special Investigation Unit scrambled into action. As they hurried around him, the SIU director’s frown only deepened.

“Kurusu…” he murmured, “You’ve made a big mistake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this sequence, ehehe....
> 
> Oh, also! I've got a busy few days ahead of me and might not be able to keep up the daily posts--but I'll do my best!


	31. Getaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the police respond to the video, the Wildcards make their escape...

For some reason, Detective Niijima was out of contact; the Special Investigation Unit took it upon themselves to respond to the video. When the SIU showed up to George Nakata’s apartment, they found it empty. Nakata wasn’t even there, nor was there any sign of Arsene. They swept the room for anything they could use as evidence--but there was nothing to be found. The security guards had seen nothing, merely shaking their heads when asked about intruders.

While the police concluded there was nothing further they could do, the Wildcards were already bumping along down the freeway in a police-issued van--the copycat Arsene in handcuffs among them.

Yuuki Mishima was having a rough night. Getting attacked, captured, and held hostage had been shock enough, but now he found himself at the mercy of a group of costumed vigilantes. He looked from one masked face to another, weighing his options. For all his research and training to become a phantom thief, he had not prepared for the event of his own kidnapping.

“So, um,” said Mishima finally, “Who are all of you? What are you going to do with me…?”

“We’ll be holding you in a top-security prison,” said Spades from the driver’s seat. It was a precaution to prevent Arsene’s accomplice from aiding his escape: only the officer who booked him in would be allowed to authorize his release, and prison records weren’t accessible from the police station. It was a temporary hold for criminals with sensitive cases.

“Oh…” Mishima’s face fell. “So you’re actually cops…”

“Only some of us are cops,” said Clubs.

“A change of clothes will be waiting for you,” Spades continued, as if that would lighten the mood. “You’ll be transferred to a regular detention center once we’ve apprehended your accomplice--but you can save us some time by giving us a name right now.”

“I… can’t tell you who he is,” said Mishima quietly.

“Would you be a little more willing with a broken nose?” asked Clubs, cracking his knuckles.

“Easy, Clubs.” Joker motioned for his friend to back down.

“It’s not that I don’t want to--it’s that I literally can’t!” cried Mishima. “ _I_ don’t even know who he is!”

“What do you _mean_ you don’t know?” asked Queen.

“I… okay,” said Mishima, “You know how Arsene has a big fan following, right? I’m actually an admin on the main Arsene fansite--Phantom Thief Aficionados. We have this forum where people can talk about him and post fanart and stuff, and one day I saw this really odd post…”

“Odd how?” asked Spades.

“It was from a new user looking for a dedicated cosplayer to help him with something,” Mishima continued. “He said the pay would be really good, and we wouldn’t have to worry about getting in trouble with the law or anything. It sounded sketchy, so I deleted it… but I got curious, so I ended up sending him a PM anyway. I wanted to know if he was being serious.”

“And you ended up accepting the offer,” said Ace, frowning beneath the beak of his mask.

“Well… yeah!” said Mishima, “I wasn’t making a lot of money at my day job. The amount this dude was offering was too good to turn down, and he said I’d be helping out the art world, just like the real Arsene…”

“I see,” said Joker quietly. “But you still don’t know who put you up to it.”

“No idea.”

The Wildcards shared worried glances.

“Well, that’s not a problem,” said Joker, leaning back. “Give us two days, and we’ll find out who your patron really is.”

“I don’t know…” said Mishima, “He sounded like a super rich, powerful guy… Do you think he’ll take your bait?”

“Of course,” said Joker, smirking under his ivory mask. “What rich, powerful guy wants to risk the whole world knowing his dirty little secrets? If it got out that he was having a kid steal art for his personal collection--or even the black market--it would be an unprecedented scandal.”

“For his personal…?” Mishima frowned. “You mean he wasn’t returning them?”

“Lol, you really believed that?” said Jack.

“I mean…!” said Mishima, “He had access to all kinds of tech, and knew a lot about security at all these places, including the police station. I kinda figured it was someone sick of bureaucratic red tape… ”

“None of the items you’ve stolen have been seen again,” said Queen sharply. “They’re not being returned, they’re _disappearing_.”

“You didn’t _really_ think you were helping recover stolen art, did you?” said Ace. “None of the things you’ve targeted were at all similar to the kinds of pieces the real Arsene would go for. Family heirlooms, legitimate items from private collections… I find it hard to believe you didn’t realize what you were doing.”

Mishima glanced to Joker for confirmation; he nodded solemnly back.

“Oh…” Mishima looked at his feet. “... Guess I got played, huh…”

“Yep, you sure did,” said Clubs.

“Am I gonna end up in jail…?”

“It depends on what the prosecution ultimately decides,” said Spades. “Burglary charges typically come with a hefty fine and a little jail time--or probation.”

“Oh…”

“It’s unfortunate, but you _did_ knowingly break the law,” said Queen.

“Yeah…” Mishima clenched his fists. For a few minutes it was quiet, aside from the rush of the engine. Jack tapped away at a mobile game on her phone, while Queen adjusted the straps on her suit.

Mishima looked back up, meeting the others’ gaze.

“Um… Take that guy down, alright?” he said. “Now that I know he was just using me… He’d better not get any less jailtime than I do.”

“Don’t worry,” said Joker smoothly. “We’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

“We’ve still got a few tricks up our sleeves,” said Ace, smiling. “A trump card, one might say.”

“A _coup de grace_ ,” Spades chimed in.

“Thanks…” said Mishima. “Er… who are all of you, again? I know Akira, but… I feel like I’ve seen the rest of you somewhere too.”

The mask-wearing passengers traded knowing glances before looking back at him.

“We’re the Wildcards,” said Joker, a smirk pricking at the corners of his mouth. “Heroes of justice, or costumed vigilantes? We’ll leave that for you to decide.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” said Mishima.

“And we’d like to keep it that way,” said Ace. “You’ll be signing a nondisclosure agreement when we arrive at the prison.”

“If you tell _anyone_ about what happened tonight, you’re toast,” Queen added.

Mishima gulped.

“Alright….”

He spent the rest of the car ride in silence, staring out the heavily-tinted windows and trying to discern where they were headed. At this time of night, it was futile. He wondered if his mysterious patron would find a way to come to his aid…

… or would he simply be labeled a lost cause?


	32. Joker Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days later, Akira returns to Nakata's apartment for the final stage...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title for this chapter comes from [an utapri song of the same name](https://soundcloud.com/sakura-tsuki/uta-no-prince-sama-joker-trap), ehehe~

Two days later, Akira once again took a seat on the couch in Nakata’s dimly-lit apartment, dressed head to toe in his thief getup. He’d foregone the helmet for his ivory mask--tonight, he wasn’t here as Arsene. He was here as Joker, and wanted to look the part.

Joker looked at his watch: just a few minutes left until midnight. He figured he’d give Arsene’s patron about a half hour of leeway before calling it in. Though he was confident in his plan, he did have a little nagging doubt--if the perpetrator didn’t show, he’d be back to square one. He couldn’t make good on his threats without a name, and his bluff would become obvious.

Luckily, he wasn’t waiting long. The sound of the door opening reached his ears from the entryway. It shut not too long after. Joker’s heart pounded in anticipation…

… and a balding, bespectacled older man strode into the room. Dressed in a plain suit, he looked altogether unremarkable. The kind of person who wouldn’t draw a second glance.

“Glad you could make it,” said Joker amicably.

The man frowned at him.

“Kurusu,” he said. “I recognize that voice, and that frizzy hairstyle of yours. So you really _were_ Arsene… Why expose yourself like this?”

“I don’t see what the point would be of hiding,” Joker replied with a shrug. “You already knew, didn’t you? You were the one who helped Niijima find me, after all. Isn’t that right--Mr. Director?”

The director lowered his head, his glare almost piercing.

“Get to the point, Kurusu. How much do you know?”

“I know many things about you,” Joker went on. “I know that you’re fond of Japanese and Chinese antiques, much like the ones thus far targeted by Arsene. I know you have a particular soft spot for Western-style paintings by Japanese masters--such as the _Sayuri_ , which my copycat attempted to steal. I also know that you’ve been soliciting a young man by the name of Yuuki Mishima to commit crimes in Arsene’s name.”

The director’s eyes widened. Joker paused a moment for him to respond--but he seemed too shocked to be able to form a reply, so Joker just kept talking.

“I have to admit, it wasn’t a bad plan to have young Mishima steal priceless artwork under the guise of returning it… because in reality, you had no intention of ‘returning’ any of the pieces. Instead, you, an accomplished collector, wished to have them for yourself--and you knew that someone of your wealth and status could get away with it.”

The director’s expression darkened; Joker surmised that he was right on the money.

“Your career provided the perfect cover: nobody would suspect that an upright man of the law could be involved in such scandalous crimes. After all, you had Arsene to draw all of the attention! You even made yourself out to be a victim, having Arsene come to steal one of _your_ pieces at the outset, before anything else would have made its way into your collection. That trick was particularly brilliant, I’ll give you that--you even had the great Detective Akechi fooled!”

“You can’t prove it was me,” said the director tersely. “I made sure to cover my tracks; there’s no way--!”

“Oh, don’t worry--I won’t need to prove anything,” Joker continued. “Just think: what a terrible scandal it would be, if word of your little spree got to the press… All I need is for the police to have reason to suspect you. I’m sure a cursory search of your flat will reveal everything they need to know.”

Joker didn’t think the director’s frown could get any deeper.

“Alright, I get it. What do you want from me?”

“50 million.”

“Yen?”

“No, Monopoly money--of _course_ yen!” Joker couldn’t help laughing at his own little joke. “50 million yen to buy my silence. No questions asked. 50 million and I drop this right now, and we both walk away.”

“I don’t have that kind of money,” said the director.

“That’s too bad for you, then, isn’t it?” said Joker, shrugging, “I suppose you’ll just have to deal with the fallout once my friends in journalism expose your crimes.”

There was a _click_. The director reached into his inside pocket and pulled out a handgun, already fitted with a silencer.

“Or I could just kill you, and solve all my problems right now,” he said, smiling.

Joker smiled back at him.

“I don’t think that would be wise, director.”

Joker snapped his fingers, and clicks erupted from around the room. Seven more people sprang up out of hiding; some from behind couches, others out from under tablecloths, and one even slipped out of the fireplace. All wore similarly garish costumes to Joker’s, faces hidden under unique masks. Every single one of them was armed to the teeth, training their assault weapons and pistols on the thoroughly startled director.

“W-what is the meaning of this!?” the director cried.

“This is a holdup,” said Joker smoothly, behind the barrel of his own pistol. “Why don’t you put that gun down, Mr. Director? You’ve already lost.”

The director released his pistol; it fell to the floor with a clatter.

“That’s more like it,” said Joker. He returned his gun to his pocket and crossed his legs nonchalantly. “Now, as to the terms of our agreement…”

“Yes, yes…” The director was visibly sweating now.

“50 Million, as previously discussed. I’ll accept cash, or a check made out to ‘The Wildcards.’ I have a PO box under that name here in Tokyo; box number 91416. If you’d be so kind as to send the money to that address before the week is out…”

“Yes, I’ll see what I can do…”

“And remember,” said Joker. “If you fail to pay up, or send your underlings after me…  you can expect nothing less than utter ruin. Arsene is not kind to those who would make an enemy of him.”

“I-I understand…” said the director. “Is there anything else?”

“I believe that will be all. Don’t forget your gun on the way out, director. It would be unfortunate for something like that to fall into the wrong hands.”

The director scrambled to retrieve his gun from the floor. Bowing politely, he left the room in a hurry and slammed the apartment door behind him.

There was a beat or two of complete silence. Even with the confrontation over, the director gone, a certain electricity remained in the room. The Wildcards exchanged glances, grinning beneath their masks.

“Just as planned,” said Joker. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to say that.”

“Of _course_ you have,” said Ace with a sigh. Smiling, he added, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“You bet it does,” said Joker. “Jack, how much time do we have?”

“He’s in the elevator, but he’s getting out his phone,” said Jack, checking a video stream on her own phone, “Probably calling the fuzz on us. I’d say we’ve got ten minutes, tops.”

“Plenty of time if we take the back way,” said Joker. “Don’t forget about the camera.”

“You got it, Joker!” said Clubs.

“And toss the key on our way out. That should buy us some time.”

“Can do,” said Queen.

“Alright, Wildcards.” Joker stood up, straightening his coattails. “Our work here is done. Let’s shuffle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, okay, literally all of you called that the director was behind this lmao........ if i had to do this again i'd pick someone who wasn't a villain in the game, rip (or set it up so it looked like it was gonna be the director, but was someone else instead...). lesson learned lmao


	33. The Ace Detective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After three days, Tomohisa Matsumaru still isn't certain how he's going to get himself out of this. But he has a vague idea of where to start...

Three days on from his confrontation with Arsene, Tomohisa Matsumaru stood at the window in his office, contemplating his options. They weren’t good.

He of course didn’t have the 50 million yen. He was wealthy, but not so wealthy that an amount that large wouldn’t faze him. That left weathering the scandal--there was a chance it would fail to gain traction--or doing something about Akira Kurusu, and the masked lunatics who’d assisted him.

Luckily, Kurusu still didn’t have any solid proof. The director had called his team to sweep the apartment soon after the meeting, under the guise of trying to catch the thieves in the act. They’d found the apartment locked and empty, of course: the thieves had somehow made their escape in the time he’d been out of the room. He didn’t expect there would be much to recover from the apartment itself, but instead, he found the thieves had been sloppy. A camera left precariously out of place--as if someone had been midway through removing it when they had to bolt--alerted the team to the possibility that the place was bugged. More careful searching unearthed a host of cameras and bugs hidden in every possible crack. Even some of the art had been fitted with recording devices.

_So that George Nakata person must have been in on it too… That whole apartment must have been a trap. Of course a recovered, restored_ Sayuri _was too good to be true--it should have been obvious from the beginning._

_But no matter. I have everything I need._

The director had offered to examine the recording devices personally--and promptly destroyed them the first opportunity he got. He knew that meant lowering his chances of identifying the others in Kurusu’s posse, but that didn’t matter to him. His own safety came first.

At the very least, he still had the recording from that first night. Kurusu had announced himself as the real Arsene, and Matsumaru had the probable cause to back it up. If there was some way he could use that recording to sway Detective Niijima and take Kurusu out of the picture, without revealing his own role in all this…

As he pondered this, a knock sounded at his door.

“Mr. Director?”

_Speak of the devil,_ he thought. _There’s Detective Niijima now._

“Yes, come on in.”

The door opened, and in strode the young Detective Akechi--with Niijima close on his heels.

“Ah, hello,” said the director amicably. “What can I do for you, detectives? Any progress with Arsene?”

“Actually, that’s what we’re here to discuss,” said Goro. “We’ve finally found the culprit behind all this.”

“Have you, now?” said the director. “Well? Do you have him in custody? I’d like to ask him personally about what he did with my prints…”

“Not so fast, Mr. Director,” said Niijima. “We don’t have him behind bars quite yet.”

“Oh? What’s holding you up?”

“We wanted to make absolute certain we had the right man,” said Goro simply. “And after a thorough review of the evidence, we’ve determined that the culprit is…” He pointed with a gloved finger, perhaps a little dramatically, _“... you,_ Mr. Director.”

The director laughed.

“Very funny, Akechi-kun,” he said. “Is the department paying you to joke around now?”

“We’re quite serious,” said Niijima.

“I’d like to see some evidence,” said the director sternly, “You can’t just go tossing such wild claims--!”

Goro took a small device from his pocket and tapped a button at the top. Low-quality audio began to play from the device’s speakers:

_“... you even had the great Detective Akechi fooled!”_

_“You can’t prove it was me.”_ The director jumped as he heard his own voice. _“I made sure to cover my tracks; there’s no way--!”_

Smiling, Goro tapped the button again, bringing the recording to a stop.

“How…” said the director, “My team cleared the apartment… we removed all the bugs…!”

“I figured you might do something like that,” said Goro. “Even if Akira told you not to touch anything, of course you were going to anyway. That’s why we planted those devices in the first place.”

“Planted…?”

“There was nothing on them,” said Goro. “Blank memory cards. A camera just slightly out of place… Something to keep your team occupied while we made our escape. All we really needed was one perfect recording--which my fiance was happy to get for us.”

The director stared at him, dumbstruck.

“He was wearing a wire…. That whole time, he--!”

“Of course,” said Goro. “To catch someone who tampers with evidence, we needed evidence that couldn’t be tampered with.”

“T-this still doesn’t prove anything,” the director stuttered, “You can’t prove it’s my voice--!”

“We won’t need to,” said Niijima. “We have eight eyewitnesses who can confirm the exchange happened as recorded.”

“ _And_ we already have a warrant lined up to search your flat,” Goro continued sweetly. “I’m afraid it’s game over, Mr. Director.”

The director stood there, motionless; all the color drained from his face. Goro’s smile never faded. _This_ was the satisfaction of a perfectly orchestrated victory; something that his fiance had never let him have. He didn’t think anyone would fault him for gloating a little.

There was a slight _clink_ as Niijima took a pair of handcuffs from her purse.

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re going to have to place you under arrest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [HERE!](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/170014727682/todays-chapter-of-jokers-wild-is-up-now)   
> ~~not even trying to be subtle anymore lmao~~
> 
> Def had the [AA1 "Cornered" theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3R8tkvlAlk) in my head while writing this, haha


	34. Modus Operandi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It should have been a simple plan, but even the best-laid plans have a tendency to go wrong...

Tomohisa Matsumaru came quietly, without any further attempts to resist. Police searched his apartment later that afternoon, recovering every single piece that had been stolen by Arsene. Most were easy to find--he’d added them to his collection, displaying them tastefully around his flat. Someone less familiar with the art world might not have guessed that they’d been stolen.

In custody, the director confessed to everything: It had begun as an idea he’d had on a whim one day, after watching a special broadcast on the NHK. The original Arsene had never been brought to justice. It was one of his biggest disappointments as SIU director--that he’d never managed to locate Arsene before the statute of limitations tied his hands. But if another calling card was discovered, the case would be reopened…

(This wouldn’t have been the first time he’d used underhanded means to bring in criminals. If the arc of the universe bent toward justice, well--he just gave it a little nudge now and then.)

The director already had a name for their prime suspect, and after discovering he worked at a museum, the plan formed in his mind almost instantly. He could plant a calling card, and sit back to watch as the rest unfolded. At the same time, though, it didn’t make sense to have a card alone--it would simply be called a hoax and disregarded. He would need something a bit more convincing than that.

At first he’d wanted to have a decoy appear on security footage, but this uncharacteristic sloppiness would have tipped off the others that something wasn’t right. Instead, his evidence would come from an eyewitness--a security guard encountering Arsene at the scene of the crime. After hearing that Arsene had made a name for himself in fan circles, the director decided to take his search online…  

The director used a fan forum to find someone to play his thief. Yuuki Mishima answered his request, and he agreed to provide the boy with the tools and knowledge necessary to avoid capture--along with a convenient lie that he’d be returning the stolen art. It was Mishima who wrote and planted the card, and who used the director’s tools to hack the museum cameras.

Matsumaru’s plan had almost gone perfectly; when he heard Kurusu was arrested, he knew it was only a matter of time before he’d be able to see Arsene behind bars. There were just two little snags he hadn’t thought of: for one, Kurusu and his fiance had a watertight alibi. For another, while the former thief was stupid enough to take the grave shift on the night of the crime, the director hadn’t considered the possibility that the two thieves knew each other.

It was supposed to be one little, teensy job--and every possible thing that could have gone wrong went wrong. Kurusu joining the force only complicated things further.

The director knew the team had nothing that could implicate him, but the fact that they’d been able to find Mishima was enough to scare him. He removed Mishima’s records from the system entirely, and put his accomplice up at a relative’s apartment--claiming that he was a family friend who needed a temporary place to stay while he completed his studies.

He knew he could likely use Mishima for as long as he needed; the boy’s pay was almost trivial in terms of expenses, and Mishima still blithely believed he would be returning the art he stole. The director’s next step was to route suspicion away from himself, hence setting himself up as a victim. He almost got Kurusu with that one too--but he was foiled, yet again, by that infuriating young detective.

By mid-December he was running out of ideas to ensnare the real Arsene, just as it was beginning to become an obsession. He tried to get his mind off things by indulging his hobby, going antiquing and attending auctions, but his misery only deepened.

While he was fond of collecting, truthfully, the director hadn’t been able to add to his collection for several years. Rising prices, scarcity, and his own busy career kept him from enjoying his hobby. He missed several items he’d been coveting after auction prices rocketed out of his budget. It seemed that the value of antiques was only going up; his own salary couldn’t keep pace. He found himself unable to enjoy his own collection, the one thing that should have brought him solace.

And then, he got his most horrible--most brilliant--idea yet.

If he used someone like Arsene as a cover, the question of affordability would become irrelevant. Every antique treasure in the country could be his for the taking. He could furnish his collection with _exactly_ what he desired, budget be damned. And if he managed to corner Kurusu in the process--well, wouldn’t that be something?

He’d of course balked at the idea at first, as though it were merely an intrusive thought. Underhanded dealings were one thing--expedient means for justified ends--but this would be outright breaking the law. The ultimate betrayal of his position in law enforcement. If he were discovered, his decorated career would be over. But the more he considered it, the more he realized that it was well within his means to pull off. He had a wealth of resources at his disposal, and the cover of a respectable position. His previous stint as a victim was the icing on the cake. Nobody could possibly suspect him…

In the end, the siren call of possibility was too tempting to resist.

As the months passed, he cared less and less about cornering Arsene. Setting up perfect crime after perfect crime, watching his collection grow with the kind of decadence he could have only dreamed of… it began to feel like a perverse game. He felt a sort of exhilaration he’d never quite been able to feel before. He could get away with whatever he wanted, and the police would never once suspect that _he_ was behind it all--so long as he continued to deflect suspicion elsewhere. The satisfaction of enjoying his treasures, knowing that they were for his eyes alone…

… had, at last, been his downfall. He flew too close to the sun, and fell for bait that should have been obvious from the outset. He should never have gone to meet with Arsene at Nakata’s flat. Even if there was a scandal, he could have used his influence to quash it. In a moment of weakness, he let his ego get the better of him. He’d wanted to see the look in Kurusu’s eyes when he saw the director still had a last resort. To finally beat Arsene at his own game…

Matsumaru ended his rambling with a deep, irritated sigh. As his confession drew to a close, he rested his head on folded hands. He looked Detective Niijima straight in the eyes, smiling that tired, wan smile.

“Now we can both say that we were thoroughly outwitted by Arsene, can’t we?”

Niijima shut her laptop with a snap.

“Actually, sir, you’ll have to give Detective Akechi most of the credit for this one,” she said. “Kurusu came up with the master plan, but Akechi was the one who guessed you were the culprit.”

“What? But--how!?”

“I simply told him what you told me a few weeks ago--that you suspected he was involved,” said Niijima. It had been that night at the gala; the look on Goro’s face when she told him was clear in her memory. “He realized that you were trying to throw me off your trail, and put the pieces together from there. He was actually the one who told Kurusu what to say at your meetup, and suggested he wear a recording device.”

Niijima smiled at him, mirthlessly.

“You may not think much of him, but he’s actually quite brilliant.”

“That little brat…!” The director clenched his fists, but seemed to think better of it. “... It would seem he inherited his father’s cunning…”

“I’m not sure he would be happy to hear that.”

“It is of no consequence,” said the director. “Just the ramblings of an old man. That’s all, Niijima-kun. I have nothing more to say.”

“Thank you, Mr. Director. I’ll be taking my leave.”

Niijima stood, bowed, and left the room, taking her laptop with her. Makoto met her just outside the interrogation room, water bottle in hand. It was a while before either of them spoke.

“You alright, sis? I was surprised you wanted to be the one to…”

“... I’ll be fine,” said Niijima quietly. She gratefully accepted the water. “It was good to have the closure, I suppose.”

“I almost can’t believe it was him, after all that,” Makoto admitted. “You always spoke so highly of him.”

“I know,” Niijima answered. Paused. “But... he’s not the man I respected anymore.”


	35. The Wildcards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With their job now done, the Wildcards can sit back, relax, and enjoy the afterparty...

It was well past midnight on a Monday, but in a nightlife hub like Shibuya, the lights were still on and the bars were still hopping. On Central Street, most of the stores were still open; izakayas and diners buzzed with the din of drunken salarymen at company parties. Only Big Bang Burger, its decorative lights flickering, seemed empty--a “Closed for a Private Party” sign hung on the glass doors.

Eight of the ten Wildcards crammed into a giant booth set back from the entrance, the table next to them piled high with their duffels and purses. Now back in their normal clothes, nobody would suspect that this group of young adults was fresh off the scene of a crime. Haru encouraged everyone to order whatever they’d like, and requested a couple of orders of large fries for the table. Futaba and Yusuke grabbed sodas for the group.

“Is anyone else just like, wired right now?” asked Ryuji, bouncing his knee beneath the table. “I feel like I could do ten laps around the block.”

“That’s probably the adrenaline talking,” said Makoto. “... or the coffee Kurusu made us drink two hours ago.”

“I didn’t _make_ you drink it, only said it’d be a good idea,” Akira corrected her. “I just wanted to make sure we’d all be alert for the important part.”

“You snuck in an extra shot of espresso when you were making it,” said Futaba. “I saw you.”

Akira shrugged, smiling.

“Well, none of us fell asleep on the job, so I’ll call it a win. Speaking of which--good work tonight, everyone. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect team.”

“I have to admit,” said Goro. “I didn’t think the model guns were going to work.”

“Good trick, huh?” said Akira. Real guns had been absolutely out of the question, but Akira realized there was an easier way to intimidate someone. The guns didn’t need to be real--just convincing enough to make someone _believe_ they were. “I knew if we kept the room lights down, even a trained cop wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.”

“We sure scared the bees out of that guy!” said Futaba, grinning. “I practically saw his soul leave his body.”

“At first I wasn’t certain what role the costumes might play in all this, either,” said Yusuke. “It must have been very frightening to be ambushed by a whole group of people in costumes as wild as ours.”

“I thought they came out great!” said Ryuji. “Ann, who knew you could pull off a catsuit so well?”

“Oh, please!” said Ann. “I was a model in high school, remember? Of _course_ I look great in a catsuit!!”

“Top notch design work, Ann,” said Akira, nodding in agreement. “I’ll be fantasizing about Goro in that prince outfit for years.”

“ _Must_ you do this right now!?” said Goro, flushing. Ann laughed.

“I’m glad you liked it, Akira,” she said, “Since you're the one who gave me the idea for the design."

“I did?”

“When I asked what kind of outfit would suit him, you said Akechi-kun kind of gives off a prince charming vibe.”

Goro’s face couldn’t get any redder.

“Prince charming…?!”

“Why not?” Akira shrugged. “You _are_ my prince charming, babe.”

“I’m--!?”

“Get a room!” said Futaba.

“I know it’s hard for you, but _please_ save the shameless flirting for another time,” Makoto chimed in. “Your fiance looks like he’s going to die of embarrassment.”

“ _Fine…”_ Akira relented with a pout. Goro let out an exasperated sigh, but the color was beginning to recede from his face. He shifted a little closer to Akira as the conversation lulled. Someone behind the counter called out Haru’s order; she and Makoto stood up to retrieve the food.

“So,” said Ryuji, “What are you all gonna do with your cut?”

“With our… cut?” said Yusuke.

“Of the _money_ , genius!” said Ryuji, grinning. “Fifty million yen, split ten ways… that’s five mil each.”

Futaba whistled.

“I could buy sooooo many MobaCoins…” she said, eyes sparkling. “I’d never have to worry about gacha luck ever again!”

“I’d dream a little bigger, Futaba,” said Ryuji.

By now Makoto and Haru had returned with the fries, four baskets to share.

“Hm… Five million yen is a generous amount,” said Yusuke, munching on a fry. “Perhaps I’ll upgrade to a one-bedroom flat.”

“ _That’s_ your idea of an upgrade?” said Ryuji, “I’m worried about you, dude.”

“Alright, then what do _you_ plan to do with your cut, Ryuji?” said Ann.

“I’m gonna travel--what else?” said Ryuji, “I’ll finally get to see the capitol of America: New York City!”

“That’s not the capitol of America,” said Goro.

“Okay, then maybe Los Angeles.”

“ _Still_ not the capitol,” said Goro, sighing. Futaba giggled.

“Traveling’s not a bad idea,” said Ann. “In that case--I’m gonna visit Paris! The sights, the fashion, the food…! I’ve always wanted to go!”

“Let me know if you need recommendations,” said Akira. “Goro and I know this great little cafe by the Seine.”

“Ahh, that sounds amazing…!” Ann rested her chin on her hands dreamily. Akira and Goro shared a knowing glance.

“Hey Haru, what’re you gonna do with your cut?” asked Futaba. “Five mil is probably like nothing to you, though…”

“I don’t have anything in mind yet,” said Haru. She munched a little as she thought about it, delicately drawing a line of ketchup on each fry before eating them. “Actually, I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. I’m not convinced he’ll pay up.”

“Neither am I,” said Makoto. “Fifty million yen is a lot to ask of someone, even at his pay grade. We’re probably going to arrest him before he has the chance to pay up.” She turned to Goro. “What’s the time frame on that, by the way? We have that recording, so we could technically arrest him right now if we wanted to.”

“No, I want to make sure we have everything in order first,” said Goro. “Including a search warrant. Besides--let him think he still has a chance to escape. Then we’ll swoop in and crush the last of his hopes.

“Jeez, sadistic much?” said Futaba.

“Well,” said Goro. “He _did_ threaten to kill my fiance. It’s understandable to want a little payback, isn’t it?”

“Note to self: do _not_ get on Akechi’s bad side,” said Ryuji. Everyone laughed; even Goro couldn’t help cracking a smile.

Akira sat back a little in his seat, eyes glancing over everyone in turn. His friends had all changed from when he’d first met them, some more subtly than others. Their lives had diverged in one way or another. And yet, being able to sit around a table and laugh together with all of them…

“Akira?” said Ann. Akira perked up a little.

“Hm?”

“You alright?” she asked. “You seem quieter than usual.”

“I’m fine,” Akira smiled. “I was just thinking… it’s kinda nice, you know? Hanging out all together like this. Just like old times, with a few new friends.”

“I agree,” said Haru. “I’m glad for the opportunity. Between work and school obligations, I don’t get much time to spend with friends.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me about work…” said Futaba. “All my coworkers are these tech dudebros. They’re not even the cool kind of nerd! It’s the worst!”

“You think that’s bad--I work at Shujin, dude,” said Ryuji. “All the same teachers, and half of em are still convinced I’m a dick. If the track team doesn’t do their absolute best, they think it’s ‘cause I’m draggin ‘em down.”

“Imagine working for your own _sister_ ,” Makoto sighed. “People are always comparing me to her. It’s like I’m standing in her shadow.”

“I like the people I work with, at least.” Ann paused. “But I always feel like I have to put on a professional face for them. It’s like… even in a job I love, it’s hard to be the real me.”

“I work solo, and I’m usually alright on my own. Even so…” Yusuke trailed off. “For some reason, I find myself wishing tonight would last forever.”

“Man, same,” said Ryuji. “I don’t wanna go back to the grind…”

“Hard same…” said Futaba.

“Yeah…” said Akira. “I guess I hadn’t realized how much I missed you guys. Now that the Wildcards’ mission is over, I wonder when we’ll next get a chance to hang out…?”

An uneasy silence fell over the group. More likely, the eight of them would disperse--returning to their jobs and obligations, their time as “thieves” long out of mind. They’d come together out of necessity; now that the need was gone, other things would surely take precedence. And yet…  

“Um, if it’s alright,” said Goro, finally piping up. “I’d like to keep meeting all together like this. As friends.”

All eyes fell on him.

“We could, I don’t know… set a time once a month, or every two weeks, to just chat or do something together,” he continued. “I know we’re all adults with jobs, but… I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of this yet.”

He looked down sheepishly.

“I’ve, um… never had this many friends before… so…”

“Aww, Akechi!” said Futaba. “Sure we can hang out!”

“Yeah!” said Ann. “Akira’s told me so much about you, but I feel like I still don’t know you that well. I’d love to hang out more.”

“Me too!” said Ryuji. “After all, I gotta find out what kinda guy finally managed to steal _that_ playboy’s heart!”

Akira grinned, chest swelling with pride.

“Well, that settles it,” he said. He lifted his soda cup into the air. “From now on--we’re gonna make time for each other. Not just as Wildcards, but as friends.”

“Agreed!” Ryuji’s cup joined Akira’s, and the other six joined in one by one.

“To the Wildcards!” said Futaba.

“To us!” said Ann.

“To Akira, for bringing us all together,” said Makoto.

“Aw, come on--!” said Akira, laughing.

“Yeah, man!” Ryuji agreed. “None of us would be here without you!”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Goro quietly.

“Alright, alright,” Akira relented. He took another look around the table, meeting the gazes of all his friends. Of his fiance, who seemed to complete the group somehow--as if he’d been the last missing piece all along. “Cheers, everyone!”

_“Cheers!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so much fun to write... _(:3」∠)_ but also managing a conversation with this many people was hard haha
> 
> also used this chapter to throw a giant middle finger to hashino and soejima for how ann was portrayed in the game lmao, yall can pry confident model ann takamaki from my cold dead fingers


	36. Elegy for "Arsene"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sentences have been handed down, the punishments meted out. Two old friends meet on a platform in Shibuya station....

Tomohisa Matsumaru was sentenced to a few years in prison, with a number of years of probation afterward. His collection was confiscated by the police--both things he truly owned and things he’d stolen--and it was left to the Investigation Team to return the pilfered pieces to their rightful owners. Despite the police’s efforts to keep his trial and sentencing a secret, word still got out to the media. The former SIU Director left the force amid a mounting scandal.

By contrast, the actual perpetrator got off lightly. Mishima Yuuki’s defense lawyer managed to reduce his sentence, given his previously clean record and Matsumaru’s clear manipulation. Mishima would be sent to live with his relatives in the country for two years of probation, during which he would be monitored regularly.

The day he was to leave for his aunt’s house, Akira Kurusu met him on the platform at Shibuya station. The two of them stood near the vending machines, keeping an eye out for the train; aside from Mishima’s probation officer, Akira was the only one who’d come to see him off.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me here…” Mishima said nervously. “Mom and dad are still pretty mad at me, so I’m taking the train by myself…”

“It’s fine,” said Akira. “Consider it a favor. For old times’ sake.”

“Yeah…” Mishima nervously shifted his duffel bag from one shoulder to the other. “Um, actually, there was one other reason I wanted to meet with you before I left.”

Akira tilted his head curiously. Mishima bent down to his other suitcase and took from it a round item the size of a basketball, wrapped in a shopping bag.

“Here… I want you to have this, Kurusu.”

Akira took the shopping bag from him and peered inside. He recognized the shape of Arsene’s familiar helmet--Mishima’s cosplay replica, that is.

“You’re giving me this…?” Akira met Mishima’s gaze. “Why?”

“Yeah. I, um. Don’t really have a use for it anymore…” Mishima looked at his feet.

“Wasn’t Arsene really important to you?”

“He was, but…” Mishima smiled weakly. “Considering he got me in trouble with the law, I’ve decided I’m done with Arsene. I’ve sold off a lot of my merch and cosplay stuff, and I’m even planning to shut down the forum before too long. It’s probably not a good idea for me to keep associating with Arsene, you know? And I don’t want any more people using the forum to recruit Arsene fans for their crimes…”

“Understandable,” said Akira. “There’ll be a lot of disappointed Arsene fans out there, but you should do what’s best for you.”

“Yeah…”

“But, even having said that,” said Akira, “I can’t accept this helmet, Mishima.”

“Why not?!” Mishima looked back up at him. “You’re--aren’t you the only person who _deserves_ to have something like this? I mean, you were--!”

“I was,” said Akira. “But the name ‘Arsene’ doesn’t belong to me anymore.”

“What do you mean…?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” said Akira, smiling coyly. “‘Arsene’ is a title. A name and a legacy, and nothing more. I spent a year and change wearing Arsene like a mask, making that name known the world over--but my contract ended years ago. Someday, someone else will pick up where I left off. And honestly?”

Akira held the shopping bag out to him.

“I hope I’m not around to see it.”

Mishima stared at him for a long time.

“Hold onto this,” said Akira. “It’s probably worth something on ebay, at least.”

“Yeah…”

A train pulled into the station. Mishima and Akira looked at it before turning back to each other.

“That’s mine, I think…” Mishima took the shopping bag back. “Thanks again for seeing me off.”

“No prob,” said Akira. “Oh, and one more thing--another little-known secret.”

“Oh?”

“On the _real_ helmet, you could push a button on the side to open up the face.” Akira pointed to his temple, smiling. “The front plates split apart. Might be worth something more if you can figure out how to make it do that.”

The conductor blew a whistle, and Mishima jumped.

“I-I’ll look into it, Kurusu!” he said, hastily gathering up his things. “Um… thanks again!”

“Keep in touch!”

Mishima bowed thankfully before running onto the train, his probation officer close behind him. Akira watched as the doors shut, and the train began to pull away. He stood there until the train had totally departed, then walked back down to the escalators. Goro was waiting for him by the ticket gates on the floor below.

“Had your goodbyes?” Goro asked as he approached.

“Yeah,” said Akira. “Thanks for waiting, babe. I thought it’d be better if it was just me.”

“Reasonable.”

The two of them tapped their metro cards, heading back for the gates to the Den-en-Toshi line. They’d decided to stop for coffee at Leblanc before heading home.

“Lately I’ve been thinking,” said Akira. “What if, ten years from now I put out an anonymous memoir about my time as Arsene? A firsthand account of the daring excursions of the world’s most famous thief…!”

“I’m sure the public would be fascinated,” said Goro flatly. “Just promise you won’t include anything about our relationship behind the scenes.”

“Aw, but that’s the best part!” Akira protested. “The sultry, sordid love affair between the famous thief and the detective hot on his heels--!”

“Akira,” said Goro sharply. “If it came out that you and I were fucking during your little spree, I have no doubt the French government would come up with a reason to sue me.”

Akira pouted.

“Fine, I _guess_ that’s fair…” he relented finally. “Morgana probably wouldn’t want me spilling the beans about Arsene, either.”

“Morgana… ah, your former patron,” said Goro. “That Geoffrey Monmouth character, I believe?”

Akira stopped walking.

“How did you know about--?”

“It wasn’t hard to connect the dots,” said Goro. “Monmouth, an outspoken supporter of repatriation, runs a foundation that helped repatriate items stolen by Arsene… We were unable to obtain any definitive proof linking Monmouth himself to Arsene’s activity, but your reaction has told me all I need to know.”

Akira stared at him, mouth agape. Goro snorted.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, laughing a little. “Do you think I’m going to use your testimony to turn Monmouth in? To put an end to Arsene, once and for all?”

“Well--?”

“I’m not,” said Goro. “I can’t, legally, and I wouldn’t even if I could.”

Goro put his hands in his pockets, turning back toward the gates.

“I’ve decided I’m done playing detective,” he said. “For good this time. Whatever else happens in the Arsene case is, frankly, none of my business. Besides…” He looked back at Akira over his shoulder, smiling. “Finals are coming, and I’ve got a wedding to plan.”

Akira couldn’t help smirking back at him.

“That’s true…”

He walked up to his fiance and linked arms with him.

“I’m happy to help you study,” he said.

“Please,” said Goro. “If by ‘help me study,’ you mean ‘distract me as often as possible’…?”

“You’re too sharp, Goro,” said Akira. “I knew I shouldn’t have dated a detective…”

“And _I_ shouldn’t have dated a shameless thief,” Goro shot back. “Yet here I am, planning our wedding.”

“Funny how the world works, isn’t it?”

“A strange twist of fate--if you believe in such things.”

The two of them bantered like this, arm in arm, all the way to the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art for this chapter can be found [HERE](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/170136185922/todays-chapter-of-jokers-wild-is-up-it-is-my)!
> 
> I wasn't initially going to have a chapter like this--I was just going to briefly mention Akira seeing Mishima off at the station--but then I thought more about how that conversation would go, and suddenly I had a whole chapter, lmao...


	37. Life Goes On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in the hustle and bustle of Tokyo, life continues on...

For the Wildcards, life as normal resumed with the first signs of spring. 

At Shujin High School, Ryuji threw a team party to see his graduating seniors off; all signed at colleges with top sports programs. 

On-location in Shibuya, Ann helped fit costumes for a new show pitch about chivalrous, supernatural thieves. 

Yusuke spent his afternoons at Leblanc, sketching future projects and chatting with Sojiro--his forged  _ Sayuri _ hanging, unassuming, on the wall by the door. 

Makoto was given her first solo investigation, following her commendable work with the Arsene case. (Though, she suspected her sister might have put in a good word).

Futaba busied herself with her work and her games. She tried many times, unsuccessfully, to get the others to join her for mythic raids.

Haru returned to her work and her studies. Investors lined up to discuss her new franchise proposal; she met each of them in the room where her father’s sword was proudly displayed.

Goro completed his studies, graduating with a Bachelor of Arts in History. Akira attended his graduation ceremony, and then brought him home--where a surprise party with the other Wildcards was waiting for him. (He cried.)

About a month after closing one of her biggest cases yet, Sae Niijima stood by the window in her office, deep in thought. On her desk was a manila envelope, newly opened…

\        \

“Niijima-san, thank you for all your hard work on the Arsene case. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Yes… you as well, Akechi-kun.”

Goro had come to Niijima’s office a few hours earlier, toting his monogrammed briefcase. It was almost nostalgic to see him carrying it; he hadn’t used it much over the course of the last few months. It was one of the last vestiges of his years with the police--along with his trademark coat and gloves.

“And if there’s anything you’d like to talk about, please let me know,” Goro continued. “It must have been difficult to learn that your mentor was the one behind all this…”

“It was,” said Niijima. “I’ll admit that I didn’t want to believe it was him; otherwise I probably would have caught on sooner. But it’s alright. I’ve always believed that powerful people ought to answer for their crimes--even people you once respected.”

There was a bit of uneasy silence; Niijima glanced out the window, and Goro bent to unlatch his briefcase.

“Actually, Niijima-san, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you.”

“Oh?”

Goro straightened up and held out a manila envelope in both hands. He bowed to her as she took it.

“What is this…?” Niijima opened it up to find two sheets of paper inside. “Official Resignation Form--You’re resigning?”

“Akira and I both are.”

“But why?” Niijima set the envelope down on her desk. “With Kurusu’s creativity and your deductive reasoning, both of you could have a bright future in criminal investigation. To be honest… now that the director’s gone, the force could use minds like yours.”

“I’m flattered you think so, Niijima-san,” said Goro, smiling. “But working alongside a romantic partner has been a bit draining for us. We’d like to pursue separate career tracks--ideally, in positions that allow us to have some time for ourselves.”

“I see…” Niijima sighed. “I suppose that’s understandable.”

“Besides,” Goro added. “He may have a knack for outwitting opponents, but Akira would be absolutely terrible at detective work. He tends to take people at their word, he never considers the consequences before deciding to do something, and above all else, he prefers to see the best in others--even when it isn’t warranted.”

“Spoken like a true husband,” said Niijima, laughing. “While I’m sad to see the two of you go, I wish you the best of luck on your respective paths. Do you have jobs lined up already…?”

“Sort of,” said Goro. “Akira plans to look for work as a bilingual tour guide. He’s actually taking one of the certification classes right now, otherwise he would have given you his resignation in person. As for myself… Well, I’m a fresh graduate working a respectable fresh-graduate job at a certain cafe in Sangen-jaya.”

Niijima couldn’t help smiling.

“And that’s going well?”

Goro nodded.

“Akira’s been teaching me how to brew the perfect cup of coffee,” he said, picking up his briefcase. “I’d love for you to stop by sometime to try it.”

“I’ll consider it,” Niijima told him. “Well… I suppose I’ll see you around, Akechi-kun.”

“Mm. Until we next meet.”

/        /

Detective Niijima gazed out the window, watching pedestrians walking on the streets below. She found herself thinking back to her time in Paris, when she and Akechi had barely known each other. He’d grown quite a bit in the years since then. In those first few months he was always quiet, passive--whether it was from the language barrier or genuine shyness, she hadn’t been certain. He went where directed and did what he was asked, talking at length only when he needed to. He’d always struck her as having a somewhat constructed personality; his smiles faked only long enough to gain others’ trust. Knowing his history, and how he’d come to join the force (it was perhaps the worst-kept secret within the department), it wasn’t any wonder he made such an effort to be liked.

She’d noticed the change around mid-March, perhaps even later. She’d thought it was his stronger grasp of French, or the knowledge that he was trusted by his peers; something about him changed, subtly, over the spring and summer. Remembering their conversation at the gala, Niijima had a new lens through which to look back on that time: that must have been when he’d started drawing closer to Akira.

She wasn’t sure she would ever forgive him for letting Akira escape that night. It wasn’t just his own career he’d damaged, after all. She’d had to pick up the pieces after he resigned, and spent five years on an almost fruitless investigation in his place. Knowing that he’d had the answer the whole time, and chose to keep that information from her until the statute of limitations was up… she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bitter.

But if he’d found something to give his empty days meaning--someone who truly cared about the person behind those fake smiles--maybe that was reason enough to let it go.

Niijima glanced back to her desk, where the manila envelope lay.

_ Kurusu… I’ll leave Akechi to your care. He’s sacrificed a lot for you, so you had better take good care of him in return. You owe him a lot more than I think you realize. _

_ And if you ever break that boy’s heart again… I’ll never forgive you. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHEW can't believe I'm finally saying this, but... stay tuned for the epilogue!


	38. Epilogue

Spring faded into summer; the cherry blossoms bloomed and scattered. In a modest apartment in a suburb south of Tokyo, life continued on as normal. Still between jobs, Akira Kurusu spent his days doing housework and catching up on shows he’d meant to watch. Were it not for their need to make rent, Akira honestly wouldn’t have minded the life of a house husband. While his fiance commuted into the city for his day job, Akira took it upon himself to look after the flat in his absence--and make sure the fat black cat they’d adopted was staying out of trouble. (It had been a long struggle, but Goro finally allowed him to get one--on the condition that the cat was Akira’s sole responsibility until he found a job.)

On one of Goro’s off days, Akira got a notification on his phone that a package had arrived for them. He went to retrieve it, and the leasing office handed him a small but weighty package addressed to his fiance. He quizzically carried it upstairs, wondering what Goro could have ordered.

“Goro?” he said as he returned. He left his shoes in the _genkan_ , careful not to disturb the bowl of dry cat food marked _Morgana_.

“Hm?” Goro looked up from the couch, computer at his side: the cat had decided to take up residence in his lap.

“Something came for you, babe. Looks like it’s from… a printing company?”

“Oh, I know what that is,” said Goro, smiling. “You can open it if you’d like. I’m a little stuck at the moment…”

Akira set the box on the kitchen table and went to get a knife to open it with. As if on cue, the cat immediately left Goro’s lap and jumped up on the table to investigate. Inside the box were cards on red stationery, with black-and-white lettering made to look like the text had been cut and pasted from magazines. _“Dear recipient,”_ the cards read, _“We have stolen each other’s hearts, and have no intention of returning them. Akira Kurusu and Goro Akechi will be married on the specified day. Please save this card; invitation to follow. -A & G.” _ Below was the date they’d chosen together, printed in silver foil.

Akira flipped the top card over. On the back was the familiar fancy letter A of Arsene’s stationery--only this time, it was joined by a fancy letter G.

“Babe…” said Akira cautiously. “Did you…?”

“Do you like them?” Goro asked. He stood up from the couch. “I ordered them in secret. You’re always coming up with ways to surprise me, so I figured I’d try a surprise of my own. Er--we can return them if you don’t want to use them…”

Akira walked up to him, holding the card behind his back.

“You said we couldn’t have a phantom thief wedding,” he said, meeting his fiance’s gaze.

“I said that,” Goro replied.

Akira smiled.

“Liar.”

He reached up and took Goro’s chin between his forefinger and thumb. Goro returned his smile, just as playfully.

“Thief.”

Six years, and he didn’t think he’d ever been more in love than at that moment.

Akira pulled him forward gently, bringing their lips together for a warm, slow kiss…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> couldn't help ending this on a blatant ocean's 11 reference, because come on. come on.
> 
> If you've made it this far--thank you so much for reading!! I started writing this for some dumb fun and it ended up ballooning way out of control... but I had fun writing it, and even though it has its problems, I hope you enjoyed it too.
> 
> As thanks for sticking with me, [here's some art!](http://magu-art.tumblr.com/post/170218835977/the-final-chapter-of-jokers-wild-is-live-if)
> 
> And with that, I think I can safely say I'm done writing for this AU. "Magu, you said that the last two or three times!" i know, _i know_ , but I think I've reached a point where I'm well and truly done now. I have a few more ideas for oneshots i could do, but ah, I'm not super motivated to write them atm.... as it happens, ideas for my next project are already coagulating in my mind, and i'm eager to get working on that! Since it's going to be more shuake, please look forward to it!!
> 
>  
> 
> ~~I'm free.... it's been 8 god damn months of thinking about this AU nonstop.... I'm free at last.....~~


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